Tales of a bird who fell in love with a corpse
by bluephoenix669
Summary: The rivalry between them started with an emotion close to hatred, deep with passionate anger. Something intense that slowly developed into an emotion whose utterance was forbidden and that trapped them in a vortex of a lethal and wicked passion. TYL!1869
1. Chapter 1

_**Title:**_ Tales of a bird who fell in love with a corpse.

**_Couples_**: HibarixMukuro (1869), DinoxHibari (D18)

_**Warnings:**_ Explicit boy/boy content (yaoi), gore, profanity, spiritual themes, psychological abuse, angst.

_**Author's notes:**_ Well, hello folks! Here I am, exploring the KHR fandom with this little baby. Special, _**Very Special **_thanks to my excellent beta-reader _**Death- Scimitar**_ which helped me with her wonderful talent to correct my horrible grammar mistakes and strange little translations from Spanish to English. Thank you dear, without you this little baby would have been abandoned in some deserted street in the abyss of my hard drive.

Any comments, questions, critics and/or suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

_The bird flies across the sky, searching_

_The bird lands on the cross of a graveyard, searching_

_Its eyes fixed on the earth, and in the beautiful corpse impregnated with death_

_And upon seeing it, the bird fell in love at first sight…_

_Fell in love with the corroded corpse that in its stillness and death,_

_Offered the bird the means of eternal blessedness._

* * *

><p>It was correct to say it didn't take much to annoy Hibari Kyoya; a single misplaced look or misspelled word was enough. It was primarily because said man always seemed to carry with him the eternal flame of an endless anger, always burning softly and in constant search for something, anything to feed its hellish fury.<p>

It was equally correct to say anyone who dared to instigate the raging anger within the young man was a) extremely stupid, or b) extremely confident in his or her abilities. Or perhaps, to be honest, a combination of both factors.

And of course, it was _utterly correct _to assume that, once the potentially deadly and hellish anger of said was unleashed, there was no man or saint of divine entity capable of safeguarding the physical and/or mental stability of the poor bastard trapped in the clutches of his cruel and volatile temperament.

That was why Sawada Tsunayoshi _knew _he was, literally and figuratively, _screwed._

Although the knowledge of that terrifying factor didn't impress him so much. Ten years of enduring the physical and psychological strain of being the leader of the most renowned _mafia _family in the world had helped him harden his wimpy and pathetic attitude into something _honorable. _Now he didn't flinch or even grow nervous at the prospect of starting a conversation with his Cloud Guardian.

_But, it is a difficult situation._

He only prayed to whoever was up there that he could inform his request to the guardian before his office turned into a battlefield. Although, sincerely, he wasn't so optimistic.

At least he wished Hibari would contain himself enough to hear him out. He wasn't in the mood to fight, much less interested in destroying his beloved office.

So, standing at full height and with a serene face that concealed the tumultuous feeling he was experiencing, Tsuna greeted his guest who stormed into his office with his usual rough elegance.

Doors slammed behind him; his tall and imposing figure filling the room with a chilly aura. He was dressed impeccably with his black suit and black tie, not a single strand of ebony black hair out of place. The features of his pale face hardened, his icy gray eyes watching the poor Tsuna with cold defiance.

Tsuna sighed slightly, feeling suddenly too tired to deal with _oh so many _complicated situations. But he was the boss, and it was his job to dealing with all kinds of situations and look for favorable answers without sacrificing the peace or the health of his guardians in the process.

Hibari was quick to inquire about the sudden call, his tone dripping annoyance.

And although the years and the experiences had certainly strengthened Tsuna's soul, the ominous feeling of dread that crept inside him was unquestionable, unavoidable.

_Oh, fuck it, he_ finally thought._ Sooner or later he will find out and hell would break loose. So why avoid the inevitable?_

Showing a seriousness only used on important matters, Tsuna explained to the man before him the urgent commission he was going to bestow upon him, wearily noting every word that escaped his lips caused Hibari's eyes to narrow more and more dangerously.

And, as expected, once he finished stating the mission the first thing that Hibari spoke was a flat and hard "No," supported by his usual argument of, "I have no time for stupid missions."

Yes, because when something didn't involve blood, pain and/or several broken or severed limbs, Hibari automatically labeled it as a stupid mission. And because Tsuna already _knew _the answer on Hibari's side, he decided to play _dirty._

- Ah, what a shame, Hibari-san. And here I thought that you would be delighted to assist me in the liberation of Rokudo Mukuro. I needed someone to accompany me to the Vendicare prison to retrieve him, but since you refused I will recruit some other Guardian instead.-

Key phrase: Rokudo Mukuro.

Tsuna always marveled at the innate ability Hibari possessed that allowed him to change the expressions of his face so radically in just few milliseconds. From annoyance to some kind of angered and passionate glance, so strange in the usually stoic guy, that for a moment Tsuna pondered whether or not he was actually doing the correct thing.

Because there was a "fire" dancing in those eyes, a distortion in those pale lips, and an expression so fierce, so feral, and so predatory… that it was intimidating.

Tsuna partially understood it, mainly because he had seen that same expression before. That same, ravenous and angered expression, always directed at the same man…

… Always for Rokudo Mukuro.

For Tsuna, it was as if he perceived the anxiety of a predator hidden within the depths of Hibari's eyes. The anxiety of a predator that was eager at the mere prospect of finally having the blood and flesh of his most desired prey between his teeth.

Knowing this, Tsuna was very patient in explaining everything relevant to the case to Hibari; all the paperwork he had to process, all the favors he had collected, and all the money he had spent so finally, after almost ten years of hard work, the Vendicare jailers had come to understand that they were dealing with the head of a powerful family, not with a spineless little runt.

With the same calm and collected patience, he told the man before him that his only duty would be to serve as reinforcement in case any type of problem develops. Because they were dealing with _Mukuro. _The same Mukuro who constantly threatened Tsuna, constantly plotted against the mafia, and constantly caused chaos around him.'

While, personally, Tsuna considered the illusionist someone "amiable", he certainly understood the man was a psychotic bastard, and the twisted personality he possessed surely would have worsened after all those years in confinement, rendering him as someone unpredictable and dangerous.

That was why he needed Hibari. Because he _knew _if something went out of control with Mukuro, Hibari would be able to manage him without causing havoc.

Although maybe, they were in so "good terms" with each other, that Tsuna wasn't sure if instead of avoiding a disaster, they would be causing one.

He wasn't surprised to hear the curt, "I accept," from Hibari seconds after the last explanation of the mission left his lips.

It was something he predicted… that he expected. But it was something that didn't bring comfort to his troubled head.

Because Tsuna _knew _the acceptance was influenced by that grotesque emotion within Hibari's soul: vengeance. Pure, dark and passionate vengeance. The same emotion that settled within his mind ten years ago when Rokudo Mukuro defeated him and swept the floor with his body and his pride, leaving him with anger and shame and an _oh so intense _desire of vengeance.

He just hoped, prayed, that nothing bad will happen between them. Because he could permit insults between them, fights and threats, but he didn't want them to kill each other. He appreciated both of them, and they were part of his beloved family.

Clearing his thoughts and nodding more to himself than to the man in front of him, Tsuna handed Hibari his airplane ticket and told him to be prepared within two hours to depart. He saw the curt nod the man gave him and how he left; doors bolting behind him.

Sighing, Tsuna's tired amber eyes focused on the ceiling, in his mind the nice image of a vacation in a beach, with a good drink in hand and without all the stressful situations that came with being the boss of the Vongola _famiglia._

- Ah, glorious dreams…- he muttered, somewhat melancholically; focusing his eyes once again in the row of papers piled in his desk.

Always permeating in his mind the nagging feeling this whole affair would end in a bloody, tragic mess.

* * *

><p>Hibari Kyoya wasn't a patient man.<p>

Smart? Of course.

Dedicated? Absolutely.

Powerful? Without doubt.

Patient? Never.

He certainly knew his lack of patience was one of his greatest faults, but he wasn't remotely interested in changing that aspect of himself. Mainly because, combined with his sour mood and his inclination towards violence, his lack of patience gave him a powerful tool that helped him get away with anything he desired.

And because Hibari Kyoya wasn't a patient man, he was itching to have his hands around the neck of Sawada for his tardiness.

Well, to be more honest, he was itching to have his hands around _someone, anyone._

He was poisoned by anxiety, by rage and… eagerness. Poison ran along his body, turning on the gears in his head, transforming his blood to fire, fire fueled by curses and hatred, passionate anger and the desire of vengeance and murder.

For him, waiting was torture. An aberration, something unthinkable.

That was why, hours later, sitting in one of the exclusive first class seats of a luxurious jet, property of the Vongola's, with a fidgety Sawada by his side, Hibari was completely unnerved. Finger repeatedly hit the armrest of his seat, his frustration becoming more and more prominent with every wasted second.

The maddening urge he had, the one that wanted to finally arrive at their destination, was too powerful to be ignored. He wanted to step out of the plane and just stand in front of Rokudo Mukuro's cell.

His fingers twitched spasmodically, fist constricting and relaxing. In his mind the image of those same fingers closing tightly around the illusionist's neck offered some peace to his turbulent mind.

Oh, how he wished to see him! Strangle him; mangle him, and destroy everything about that accursed man until only broken bones and bloody flesh remained.

How he wished to finally make Rokudo pay for all the humiliation, the broken bones, and shattered pride he bestow upon him those many years ago. Return every blow… make him bleed, and cry, and beg.

Oh, how he longed for the rich, crimson blood and the screams of agony of one Rokudo Mukuro!

Internally, Hibari knew the grotesque excitement that coursed through his veins wasn't normal. He knew it was more like an obsession, a dangerous obsession that sooner or later would swerve out of control and out of his grasp.

But he didn't care at the moment, because he was so determined to finally obtain his revenge. He didn't care, even when the voice of reason inside him whispered the great mistake he made when he accepted Sawada's offer and stepped on that plane. He didn't listen. He didn't _want _to listen. He knew that he had to pay attention to his reason and not to his impulses, but was so difficult when dealing with that damned illusionist.

Internally, he admitted all would have been easier if he had answered with a simple, "No," to Sawada's request. He wouldn't be here, swallowing in anger and depredatory excitement.

But he was a carnivore and the prey was there, ready to be taken, slaughtered, and consumed. Reason was worthless when the smell of the desired prey's blood flared in your nostrils.

And Rokudo was _his. _He was the only one with the right to claim him, destroy him, humiliate him, and kill him. The powerful illusionist was going to be trapped… and he would make him pay.

He needed to settle this once and for all. He needed to beat Rokudo for the sake of his mind. Only with the illusionist defeated, would he be able to obtain the peace that was stolen from him. He would beat him and then he would forget about him… labeling him as another herbivore among millions.

Or at least, that was what he wanted.

But with Rokudo Mukuro, nothing was easy.

_It would have been so much easier if I had just refused Sawada's offer…_

- Goddamit, - he muttered, the frown in the corners of his pale lips increasing.

Yes, it would have been so easier.

* * *

><p><em>Hideous.<em>

That was the first word that crossed Hibari's mind the moment his feet touched the gloomy, dark tiled floor deep inside the Vendicare prison.

The long, dark and endless corridors were hideous. The countless rows of cells adorning the halls, built in stone and barred with iron were hideous. The heart-stopping cries and maddened shouts of anger, terror and agony sprouting from those cells were hideous. The faceless guardians looming in the darkest corners of the prison, with pitch black clothes and pitch black souls were hideous.

_Everything_ was hideous.

A grim and shitty place that interested Hibari for the sole reason that in the same bizarre place, locked up for over ten years in one of those pesky cells, was his most hated rival.

Beside him, Sawada was a mass of nerves and fidgeting, stealing furtive glances every now and then around the place; mistrust, horror and uncertainty clear in his amber orbs.

Soon, the cells were left behind. Both of them were guided downstairs by one of the Vendicare jailers whom silently led them along more corridors, endless stairs and dark rooms… down, down, deep down to a place where the most powerful and psychotic assassins where kept.

Just when his patience began to ebb away, the stunning iron gate of the final destination loomed meters ahead, located in a dark aisle.

- Where are we?- Sawada questioned, an air of anxiety in his otherwise composed voice.

- Lowest level of the prison. Chamber #0069, - the jailer stoically answered.

The corridor was abnormally cold; at least that was what Hibari felt. More than the characteristic coldness, there was something in the air, something radiating from those brick walls that was intense, almost painful. A feeling that slipped inside the body and sent tremors to the spine… an emotion closely familiar to being touched by Death.

Hibari grudgingly admitted the poor knowledge he had about what to expect at the other side of that door. Therefore, nothing prepared him to the grotesque image that filled his eyes the instant the guard opened the door of the chamber.

Somewhere to his left, he heard a guttural shriek escaping Sawada's lips and somewhere to his right he heard the dispassionate words the jailer began to say, but he paid little attention to both of them; all his senses utterly fixed on the scene before him.

Dark grey eyes glared intently at the tall and huge glass cylinder hanging precariously from the ceiling through a complex system of anchors and heavy chains… inside, floating like a weightless feather in a greenish and unrecognizable substance, the half naked body of Rokudo Mukuro.

Hs body curved in a slight fetal position, wrapped in fine white shreds of cloth with chains coiling around his body in a near-death embrace. Needles pierced through the delicate skin of his neck and his bony wrists were imprisoned with heavy shackles. His face was deathly white, partially covered by a dark mask, eyes closed and tightly bound with white stripes that appeared to be sewn to his eyelids.

And the hair... long, deep blue tresses floated everywhere, hiding his face, wrapping slightly around the chains and the tubes, giving him an almost god-like beauty.

_Weak._

That was the first word Hibari's mind was able to conjure with such an image. A simple word that almost instantaneously was replaced when another one crossed his mind in a flash without conscious thought.

_Fascinating._

He devoted the following minutes to observing from a prudent distance the way the spectral guardian of Vendicare triggered the mechanisms of disclosure, emptying the liquid contents inside the crystal chamber. The figure of the unconscious illusionist leaned slightly against the glass, needles shed with a violent tug, and all the metal of the chains fell at the feet of his slumped body.

Almost instantly the chamber was opened and the jailer's spidery fingers grabbed a handful of dark blue hair, yanking violently and withdrawing the body from its place to rudely throw it across the cold, dark floor. The harsh sound of skin and bones colliding with hard tile resonated through the entire place. The figure laid unmoving, blue tresses scattered everywhere.

Not seconds after that an indignant shout from Sawada echoed in the room, accompanied by a string of stinging remarks and accusations towards the impassible jailer.

- Don't worry about him. He won't wake up for a while. Powerful sedatives were given to him, - the jailer offered as the only explanation, sliding silently towards the exit afterwards.

Hibari wasn't particularly scandalized by the treatment given to Rokudo. After all, he was a prisoner, not some tourist.

And besides, it wasn't as if he was going to die just for a few blows.

In order to ebb away from the confrontation (or rather, distressed monologue) between Sawada and the jailer, Hibari closed the distance between the unmoving illusionist and himself. Not without some stiffness, he picked him up bridal style, noticing almost instantly how little weight the other body carried.

And while it was true that a part of him seriously _**despised**_having the body of his most hated enemy in his arms, another part secretly rejoiced by the same act. For indeed, there was something extremely satisfying in the knowledge of having the broken and weak body of Rokudo Mukuro within his grasp.

Little, pathetically dependent Mukuro. Fragile as glass, exposed to everything… completely defenseless like a doe in an open savanna.

And while the arguing _still _carried on between the people in front of him, Hibari devoted the few moments of peace he had to wander his eyes over the body in his arms.

Ten years had passed since the last time he saw this man in the flesh. Although it was true in a lot of occasions that same man used his subordinate, the little herbivore, Chrome Dokuro, to manifest himself; it was always an illusion. One thing was seeing an illusion… and another thing was to see _what was behind that illusion._

And certainly, the man in his arms wasn't the Rokudo Mukuro he was accustomed to seeing. This creature wasn't a teenager; he was a complete adult just like him. An adult of considerable height and light toned body, whose androgynous face was thin and skillfully sculpted with high cheekbones, delicate chin, thin lips and almond shaped orbs.

Although Hibari wasn't the type that uttered importance to beauty; he admitted there was handsomeness in Rokudo Mukuro. A strange and dangerous kind of fairness that served more as a weapon than as a physical attribute. Bewitching and extremely dangerous in his alluring nature and fatal in his subtle but powerful seduction.

This man was someone so radically different from the man Hibari learned to hate all those years ago. But he was Rokudo Mukuro. He was the damned man that had humiliated him. Hibari would always recognize him… it didn't matter the changes. He would be capable of recognize him even if he transferred his soul to another body, or even in another life. So intense was his obsession with him.

The sudden ringing of Sawada's tired voice echoed though his mind, announced it was time to leave and effectively pulled him out of his observations; everything stored in a space of his memory for later use.

From that moment on, everything was a blur of constant motion and constant action on where endless hours were consumed. Leaving Vendicare, boarding the plane, and flying from one country to another to finally reach the long- awaited homeland and setting foot on the familiarity the Vongola headquarters offered.

All the while, his eyes never left the unconscious form of Rokudo Mukuro and his arms always were full of him; carrying him to the plane, placing him on a stretcher, taking him from that same stretcher into his arms and finally, transferring his body from his arms to the bed in the Vongola medical facilities.

And even when the slight heat of the illusionist body left his arms, even when Rokudo's face got blocked from sight by the mass of nurses and doctors that came to assist him, and even when Sawada took him out of the room to properly thank him for the help and inform him of another assigned mission; the thoughts of that damned illusionist were impossible to erase from his mind.

He couldn't erase his image even when he proceeded to take on his daily routine, even when he feasted over some _herbivores_ and bit them to death, even when he engrossed himself in discussions of different natures with the other Guardians…

… and even when, in the darkest hour of night, Dino Cavallone appeared at his door with a small smile and a bottle of wine.

There was a moment of distraction in the instant he silently accepted the offer of the older male and took him roughly by the lips, tangling their bodies and falling in the fresh made bed in a fiery display of energy and pent up frustration. Hands touched with primitive desire of carnal pleasure, bodies moved violently against each other, fueled by adrenaline and the desire to feel _something. _Anything.

But when they finally ended their fucking session, the distraction was gone and the thoughts came back, assaulting his mind with more viciousness. Lying on his back in the rumpled sheets smelling of sweat and sex with someone else lying contentedly at his side, his thoughts focused more and more… memories resurfaced, flooding his tormented head with more thoughts and more anger.

Thoughts focused solely on the desire to see Rokudo Mukuro's eyes open, and thereby ensure him that this was the man he wanted to destroy and not some illusion.

Scenarios one more bloody than the other, in which both fought and spilled blood… Oh, how he wanted to _bite him to death_!

Thoughts that came and went, all with the same burning desire. He wanted to make him suffer, but at the same time, he wanted to suffer. Have a real battle, feeling real pain… reactivate his carnivore tendencies that for so many years had been asleep.

And then the thoughts became images… detailed and mind-wrenching.

Memories of a thin chiseled face, of pale lips wearing a sadistic grin; mismatched eyes focused on him, shining with an almost sensual wickedness.

Memories of a slender body in his arms, pale and cold flesh, eyelids closed, peaceful expression, deep blue hair swaying back and forth with every movement, touching slightly the tiled floor.

Weak, so weak. And at the same time so powerful and fascinating in his damned and wicked beauty.

Evil… alluring and mad. His body in his hands, ready to be broken.

One of his hands went to his face, fingers clutching his forehead; anger pronouncing itself in the corners of his lips.

- Are you okay?-

The question, asked by a concerned Dino, startled him slightly.

_No, I'm not._

_- _I'm fine. You shouldn't be here, Cavallone. You got what you wanted; now get out of my house,- Hibari muttered, his sharp grey eyes watching the blonde man beside him.

- Mah, mah. Why did you always throw me out after sex? Let me stay with you… I want to cuddle a little, - Dino exclaimed, rising from the bed and rescuing his dark boxers from the top of the lamp on the bedside table.

- Go to hell, Cavallone. Now get out if you don't want me to bite you to death.-

- Why are you always so aggressive? Ok, ok… I'll go. - Dino slowly began to button his pants, putting on his shirt with a little sad smile on his face.

Both of them stayed silent, Dino looking at Hibari and Hibari looking at the ceiling.

- Do you have a problem, Kyoya? I could always help you if you…-

- No. I don't have any problems. Now out, Cavallone. I want to sleep.-

The blonde sighed at the answer, apparently accustomed to that kind of treatment.

- No goodnight kiss, Kyoya? - He teased, turning towards the door.

- Go fuck yourself. - Was the curt answer and Dino chuckled, whispering a sad, "See you later," and exiting the bedroom.

_Idiot herbivore._

Hibari leaned more comfortably against the cushions and allowed his eyes to close.

In truth, he had lied to Cavallone, because he did have a problem. But he didn't want the other man involved in things that didn't concern him, nor did he think Cavallone would be pleased to know exactly what his problem was.

Because simply, his problem wasn't a situation… it was a person.

An accursed person named Rokudo Mukuro.

An angry growl escaped his lips, forehead wrinkling; fists tightening.

- Dammit.-

_Oh, yes. Damn him._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Couples**_: HibarixMukuro (1869), HibarixDino (18D)

_**Warnings:**_ Explicit boy/boy content (yaoi), spiritual themes, abuse, angst, profanity.

_**Author's notes:**_ Hi folks! I'm SO sorry for the delay, but my beta and I were REALLY occupied and stressed with life and it was impossible for us to have this in a decent amount of time. Hope your still out there, liking this little baby! Again, thanks to my excellent beta reader and counselor _**Death- Scimitar **_who gave me her time to correct and improve all the grammar mistakes and the oops! And wtf's! of this little fanfic. Thank you dear, without you this would have been a mess!

Also I have to gave my thanks to all the beautiful people that read and dedicated some time in giving a comment: _**omgjamie, OOH, Heartless Lotus, Shinigami Twin 04, Death Scimitar (XD), ellenimsay, and anonymous. **_THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT!

Any comments, questions, critics and/or suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

_Don't be aroused by my confession,__  
><em>_Unless you don't give a good goddamn about redemption__  
><em>_I know Christ is coming__  
><em>_But so am I__  
><em>_You would too if the sexy devil caught your eye_

_She'll suck you dry__  
><em>_But still you'll cry to get back in her bosom__  
><em>_To do it again_

_Jesus has risen, to no surprise__  
><em>_Even he would martyr his momma to ride to hell between those thighs__  
><em>_Pressure is building at the base of my spine__  
><em>_If I've got to sin to see you again__  
><em>_Then I'm gonna lie lie lie…_

_**(Puscifer. Rev 22:20)**_

**Dialogue:**

"_Dialogue" _(dialogue in dream sequences)

"Dialogue" (Past conversations or telephone conversations)

- Dialogue- (Present conversations between characters)

_Dialogue _(Thoughts)

_**Chapter II: The art of seducing a bird towards a trap. **_

_He was dreaming, caught in an intense nightmare he couldn't awake from._

_A v__ision created by his mind, in which he was seeing a beautiful landscape covered in emerald green grass with a perfect bluish sky flecked with whitish clouds; a huge tree of blossoming sakura flowers few meters away._

_He wasn't alone. Someone was with him, standing among the shadows the beautiful tree created, its silhouette visible between the rain of pink petals that were falling from the tree and flying everywhere. Two unmistakable mismatched eyes watching him._

"_Why are you here?" he asked to the figure in the distance, his tone tense and raged._

_Silence was the answer. _

_The figure of Rokudo Mukuro took small steps towards him... his pale face suddenly visible; thin black veins covering it, coiling around his neck, around his arms, hands and fingers like tiny black snakes._

_Lips closed tight, one of his marred hands extended towards him, his clenched fist opening. _

_Sprouting from his open palm was a small and fragile pink-winged butterfly._

_The small animal took flight, and the thin body of Rokudo began to crack; layers of flesh slowly crumbling and falling. Almond-shaped orbs watched him with utmost intensity; from his shattered mouth escaping his name, embedded in a painful and yet soft whimper._

_"Kyoya."_

_Hibari raised his hand and opened his palm. The small butterfly landed softly on his warm skin, its wings folding neatly, its small body slowly transforming in a pink lotus bud covered with the same thin obsidian veins that had infested Rokudo's body._

_A heart- stopping wail sprouted from the lips of the almost destroyed body below the sakura tree and Hibari raised his eyes, only to see the remnants of Rokudo's face crumbling and joining the pile of human debris that lay under the giant tree… the echo of his wail resounding in every corner of Hibari's mind._

Dark grey eyes opened at once, the soft rays of the early sun flooding his orbs with harsh golden reflections.

_What a strange dream._

He blinked a couple of times, the images of that nightmare still plaguing his mind. Yawning softly, he stood from his bed, silk sheets caressing his body gently before falling on the cushions. His eyes turned towards the digital clock on his bedside table, which announced, with large red numbers, it was precisely seven o'clock.

He was annoyed. That rare nightmare had left a bad taste in his mouth he couldn't erase.

Mainly because he was dreaming about _him._

How much time had passed since the last time he had seen the face of that man, either in a dream or in reality? Almost a whole week. Almost seven long days in which he had known nothing of Rokudo Mukuro apart from the sporadic and pragmatic reports Sawada Tsunayoshi provided at every meeting.

And if there was something that bothered him more than anything, it was the knowledge of not being completely informed of matters that interested him. The short and evasive announcements Sawada offered bothered him greatly, because he felt the Vongola boss was actually _hiding _useful information.

"Mukuro woke up, Hibari-san, but he is in a delicate condition. Some things that happened to him are too complicated to explain. I cannot tell you. If you want to know, then go to the medical wing and visit him. There you will see what I'm talking about."

Those were the only words Sawada told him when he confronted him, three days ago.

He knew something troublesome was happening with Rokudo. Something that Sawada knew but didn't want everyone else to know. Something that caused, at the mere mention of the illusionist, a sad spark to flash in those gentle amber orbs.

Personally, Hibari hadn't followed Sawada's advice of visiting Rokudo. He knew perfectly well his patience was so little and his resentment towards the illusionist so great that he wasn't sure if he could contain himself and not cause a disaster. Although maybe ten years ago he would have surely barged into Rokudo's hospital room without any type of consideration or care for possible repercussions, right now, bathed in the wisdom and maturity that his twenty –six years have granted him, he was more cautious.

He controlled himself and used rational thought in order to resolve his problems.

But no matter how mature he was, instincts were sometimes too powerful to be ignored. There was _something_ in that dream compelling him to do that visit Sawada had recommended to him three days ago.

It would be simple. A matter of minutes, really. He only needed to see Rokudo's face and reassure himself in the knowledge that the bastard wasn't dead.

His gaze flickered towards the huge opened window of his room, where the vision of a blue sky with white, fluffy clouds greeted him. A gentle breeze stroked his face, the subtle scent of spring flowers flooding his senses.

Oh, he knew he wasn't a patient man. But in this particular case, he just needed to wait; wait for Rokudo to heal and be at a perfect condition. He needed him at his maximum, defeat him at his most powerful level so that, in the end, his victory would be sweeter and the humiliation for Rokudo absolute.

_I need to be patient. Soon, I will destroy him._

Oh, so easy to say; yet so difficult to perform.

* * *

><p>-1869-<p>

Several hours later and against every odd, he was entering the General Headquarters of the Vongola Family and walking along the deserted corridor that guided him towards the Vongola's private medical wing, located inside the building.

Patience be damned.

The first impression that crossed his mind while wandering along the large, pristine white corridors was the abnormal silence that filled every corner. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but it was slightly unsettling to not meet the other Guardians in his wake. After all, those herbivores loved to gather in that place to take to heart the "serious" task of not doing shit.

However, after crossing the large metallic door that separated the corridor of the Headquarters from the private corridor of the Vongola's medical wing the scenario changed and he was able to see few nurses prowling in hasty steps along the aisle; exhausted and stern expressions decorating their faces.

Looking away, he began his way along the hall, the subtle scent of disinfectant and cleanliness filling his senses.

He turned to the right at the end of the passageway, and almost instantly, his vision was caught by the lone, fragile figure of one Chrome Dokuro. She stood in front of a wide crystal visor looking at the inside of the room where Rokudo was; her long violet hair partially covered her face, and the reflection of her only purple eye was filled with sadness.

Silently, he walked towards the young woman, stopped by her side, and landed his attention inside of the room. There, he saw the pale figure of Rokudo Mukuro lying on a white hospital bed, his long hair spread on the clean pillow, eyes closed and covered with gauze, face soft and serene.

There he was; asleep but alive. His slender body pale like a corpse, unmoving… breathing slowly.

- He looks so different. Don't you think, Hibari-san?-

The soft voice of Chrome Dokuro drew him away from his observations, grey eyes turning towards her, silence as his only response.

At this, the young woman smiled, sadness overshadowing the softness of her porcelain face; her single purple eye fixed on the lone figure of her mentor, lying in that sterile room.

- The Vindice guards completely disabled him. They severed the major tendons if his body and sewn his eyelids together to prevent him from using his powers. And yet, despite the harsh torture he endured, Mukuro-sama never failed at keeping my organs healthy and functioning. He always was alert, protecting me and Chikusa-san and Ken-san when our missions were dangerous or when our lives were at risk. For ten years he did that, and even now in this state he is, his illusions are as powerful as ever; my organs working as if they were my own.-

Hibari didn't say anything; it wasn't necessary. He internally admitted that yes, the fact of knowing such harsh and inhuman torture was bestowed upon Rokudo was slightly overwhelming, but certainly he wasn't surprised to know that that man had endured all of it. After all, it was _him _and Hibari knew something as simple as physical pain couldn't overpower someone as strong as Rokudo.

_But he is human, and he has weaknesses. He's in that bed because of it._

- He transmitted a message in my head, telling me that he would be alright soon, that he is regenerating himself, feeding his illusions and filling his body with life and strength. It is a process that takes time, but it is something that only he can achieve.-

- How do you know that he will succeed? - Hibari questioned, without looking at her, his eyes always fixed on the immobile figure on the white bed.

Chrome smiled, her young and beautiful face shining softly with the radiance of a deep, hidden happiness. – Mukuro-sama has the power to convert every wish, dream or desire he wants into a reality; sometimes a fake reality, sometimes a true reality… but a reality nonetheless. If he wants something, even if that something is impossible, he could have it. That is why he is the real Guardian of the Mist.-

Nothing more was said; the smile of the young woman's face present even after she politely bid him goodbye and entered Rokudo's room.

Standing outside, he observed through the glass visor how Dokuro took one of the chairs in the corner of the room and placed it at the side of Rokudo's bed.

Her lips moved softly, one of her small hands wrapped around the slender white hand that rested on the side of the bed; while the other caressed the silky blue strands of his long hair. He saw how after some minutes she stopped her ministrations only to slowly envelope the pale, unconscious man in a gentle embrace.

On seeing that intimate gesture, Hibari's eyes narrowed, anger flooding softly but steadily across his system. Sprouting inside his chest was a horrible and unknown sensation that slowly poisoned his senses with unmistakable rage.

Hours later and far away from that pristine corridor, he thought the emotion was simply a reaction upon seeing something as stupid as gestures of deep affection from one herbivore towards another. And for that reason, he thought he should let it be.

But strangely enough, that single incident _bothered him. _He knew it because, at the end of the day, he still felt that same overpowering anger coloring his senses every time he remembered that woman's arms surrounding the slender body of the unresponsive Rokudo. That same bitter resentment towards her actions.

Upon thinking about it thoroughly, he realized it wasn't the action that bothered him. It was the simple fact that the action was addressed to Rokudo.

The knowledge of someone else's arms around him and someone else's finger touching him was enough to make his blood boil with deep hatred. It didn't matter that the perpetrator was Dokuro, or Sawada Tsunayoshi, or some other herbivore; Hibari Kyoya despised to see someone else touching something that, by all means was his.

And, without doubt, Rokudo Mukuro… was entirely _his._

Sadly, he didn't come to understand the grotesque and intense feeling he felt wasn't simple anger… but something completely different; poisonous in its wicked nature.

A horrible and passionate feeling that humans often called _jealousy._

-1869-

* * *

><p>After that incident, Hibari promised himself not to return to the hospital wing. But two days later he returned, sending his promise to hell with the excuse of wanting to make sure that <em>"damned illusionist was still alive"<em>. He returned only to see the same view of a still Rokudo in whose face was visible the pale reflection of death.

Weak, deathly pale, serene and so… mysteriously fascinating.

Day after day he repeated that routine of walking the large white corridor of the hospital wing only to stop in front of Rokudo's room, watching in silence the entering and exiting of doctors and nurses with stern and defeated expressions coloring their faces. They couldn't understand how someone whose health was perfect was still in a semi-comatose state.

But Hibari perfectly understood why. And for that reason he waited, with a patience that was almost surprising to him.

Days passed by, sometimes marked with unexpected visits from the herbivores. Sometimes it was Sawada, who entered the room silently and remained by the side of Rokudo's bed, his face baffled with sadness. Other times it was Dokuro, who always smiled gently to him every time she spotted him, who always took the same chair from the same corner to sit in the same place, and who always took between her hands the same unresponsive, pale hand of the unconscious Rokudo.

She, who always caused with her gestures a deep and incomprehensible fit of powerful and dark rage within Hibari's chest.

When alone, Hibari passed time observing him. Every day he spent doing that he found something different about the illusionist. Sometimes, he was able to catch glimpses of his long white fingers moving slightly, gently flexing and then relaxing. On other occasions, he came to see the corners of those thin lips curving in a variety of dormant expressions. Few times he was able to see his head moving slightly, blue strands falling over his face.

And he observed every move, every sign with sharp eyes.

Internally, he admitted that maybe his course of action was a little obsessive, if not strange. Mainly because he knew the other Guardians were suspicious of his continuous visits. He saw it on their faces when reunited in a meeting, he saw it in the inquisitive amber eyes of Sawada every time they crossed paths in the hospital wing; he saw it in the intense look Chrome Dokuro sometimes directed towards him.

He knew they talked about him. About him, his obsession, and his unusual behavior towards the comatose illusionist. But he cared little about that. They would never be able to understand the reasons why he was doing this. So, it wasn't worth the time to try and explain it to them.

They never understood and would never understand. It was something he readily confirmed when talking one night with Cavallone; both of them lying on the messy bed in the blonde man's apartment after a pleasant round of sex.

- What is happening to you, Kyoya?- Dino asked that night from his comfortable position in bed, his naked body shining softly with the after-sex glow, marks and bites visible in the expanse of his creamy white skin.

The question caught him off guard, momentarily stopping him from his task of buttoning his shirt.

- Kyoya…-

- Who says that something is happening, Cavallone? - the black haired man answered, his dark grey eyes glancing towards the other.

- Don't think me stupid, Kyoya. I know something is wrong with you. More than that… I know your problem is related to that man, Rokudo Mukuro. - Dino's voice was strained, clear eyes shining with a turmoil of feelings.

Hibari looked at him in silence, pulling on his black suit in the process.

Oh, how he hated that kind of behavior from Cavallone. He hated that, even despite he knew about the limitations of their so called "relationship", he insisted of burying his nose into his affairs. He hated that Cavallone acted so intimately towards him even after he knew there wasn't any type of bond between them apart from the sex_. _

For Hibari, everything was crystal clear. Between them there were only two things: the relationship of comrades in arms and the relationship of fuck buddies. Just uninhibited and passionate sex to discharge tensions and problems. No feelings involved.

Because in the end, Hibari wasn't in love with Cavallone. He liked his body, his movements and the slow moans of his name escaping from those lips. There was a certain degree of respect too, mainly because Cavallone had been his tutor when he was young. Just that, nothing more.

Although it was true that Cavallone had agreed to his restrictions since the beginning of their affair; Hibari knew there was something more behind those clear eyes. An emotion far more intense than the simple satisfaction of a good fuck. Hibari recognized the gentle spark in those eyes, the same way he recognized the veiled sadness, the subtle jealous reactions and the hidden pain that was masked behind a cheerful smile every time he abandoned him after sex.

Hibari Kyoya didn't love Dino Cavallone. He didn't, and he knew he would never will. But Dino Cavallone was in love with him, and that was something Hibari _loathed._

- I don't know what you're talking about, Cavallone, - Hibari whispered while adjusting his tie.

A tense silence was present between both men.

- Don't lie to me. I am well aware that that Mist Guardian has something to do with this; everyone has noticed your continuous visits to the medical wing. Why do you insist in visiting someone who is in a comatose state? Is your obsession with him that big? - The last question was whispered with a little rage and a little sadness. Light colored orbs looked intensely at the dark haired man who stood from the bed, fully dressed and silent; his back facing the other male.

- Since that man arrived, everything has changed. Tsuna-nii is tense and exhausted. The Guardians are anxious. And you aren't the same. Is the influence of that illusionist so powerful that it's capable of causing these effects in everyone, even in you?-

Hibari could perceive the soft hues of an intense reproach in Cavallone's words.

- That's nonsense, - Hibari replied, approaching the bathroom to rinse his face.

- Bullshit, Hibari Kyoya. That's bullshit. You know perfectly well that all that I'm saying is true.-

- Enough of this, Cavallone. My problems are none of your business.-

- Of course they are! I am your…- But Dino never finished the sentence, his lips closing themselves abruptly; his pale face full of tension.

Hibari directed a glance towards him, gray eyes glittering with a mix of annoyance and anger.

- You, Cavallone, are nothing more than a relief to my pent up stress. I put the terms clearly since the first time we slept together and you agreed. My life doesn't concern you, the same way your life doesn't concern me. You need to remember that.-

- I know, Kyoya. You don't have to remind me. - Dino's lips were pressed tight, his face deadly serious.

Minutes later and in complete silence, Hibari took his briefcase from the nearby chair and headed towards the exit of Dino's bedroom. But when his hand was closed around the metal handle of the doorknob, ready to go outside, the blonde's man voice stopped him… his tone soft and serious.

- I warn you, Kyoya. That illusionist will bring calamity to your life.-

Gray eyes turned slightly to see the blonde man on the bed, and then, without any word, he opened the door and went away, leaving a saddened Dino Cavallone in its wake.

From that day on, Hibari hadn't seen Cavallone. There wasn't any need to be a genius to figure out the other man was angry with him.

But Hibari cared very little about that.

Time passed rather slowly. Day after day embedded in the usual routine. Day after day visiting, for at least a couple of minutes, the medical wing to look at the peaceful silent face of a being that was more dead than alive.

It was the seventh day of that long and monotonous week in which Hibari finally could see the vision he was so eager to witness.

As soon as he stopped in front of the glass visor to see the interior of Rokudo's room, his gray eyes shone, black pupils dilating widely; an emotion close to evil euphoria spreading to every part of his body.

_Finally…_

Rokudo was awake. Alone and sitting on the edge of the white bed, his slender body covered with a white gown, bare feet firm on the clean, cold floor. One of his hands was up, slightly probing the gauze on his eyes. His lips were tight closed and his long blue hair fell limply, strands outlining his thin face. His movements were slow, almost mechanical; fingers playing, touching with a lightness that was almost ethereal.

He was like his name… a corpse. An intriguing and fascinating corpse whose life was given back by force.

Rokudo's head straightened suddenly, as if attacked by a sudden revelation. Slowly, his face began to turn towards the direction Hibari was.

And though Hibari knew the gauze in Rokudo's eyes completely restricted any trace of light and vision for the illusionist to use, there was something unmistakably intense in that face that told him, yes, Rokudo knew someone was out there… knew that he was being observed by him.

- You know that I'm here, don't you? – Hibari muttered softly to the nothingness around him, his eyes of steel fixed on that man's expression.

He did not expect any type of response that was why he couldn't suppress his slight surprise when one of Rokudo's arms suddenly went up, pale fist slowly opening to reveal the shattered remnants of a pile of small sakura flowers.

Pink fragments escaped between pale fingers and disintegrated in the air… Rokudo's lips slowly curving in an intense and deeply mad grin. A gesture that caused a slight smirk to appear on Hibari's own lips, his chest heaving with the excited desire of a predator smelling the sweet, delicious scent of his desired prey's blood.

There was no need for words. Such gestures were enough.

To hell with the other Guardians and their assumptions. To hell with Cavallone, Sawada and Dokuro. To hell with everyone that wasn't capable of understanding the hidden meaning behind their actions.

This was something that only concerned them. Everything was reduced to them; only Rokudo and himself.

_You, Rokudo Mukuro, are mine. Completely and utterly __**mine.**_

The deranged, challenging and playful little smile continued to adorn Rokudo's face, even after he turned his face towards the wall again, curtains of blue hair covering the features of his porcelain skin.

Quietly, Hibari turned and walked away. What had previously been a little smirk now becoming a deadly grin, highlighted with subtle touches of deep animosity.

_Soon, Rokudo. Soon I will have you at my mercy._

-1869-

* * *

><p>After that day, everything went back to normal. The monotony returned to clog his senses, presenting itself as continuous and boring missions piled one on top of another on his desk.<p>

Missions that he carried out with a deathly and bloody efficiency.

His meetings with Cavallone, although less common, returned with some normalcy. His attitude was again normal and collected; something that calmed the Guardians and that calmed both Tsuna and Dino.

And, never again, since that day in which he saw Rokudo Mukuro awake, Hibari Kyoya returned to the medical wing.

Another set of days passed slowly, wrapped in continuous travels, useless missions that resulted in useless bloodshed and accumulated tension that was later emptied inside the body of the very much pleased Dino Cavallone. But even after everything seemed to return to normal, Hibari didn't feel normal. Because within himself, something had changed.

Something powerful enough to make him yawn at the prospect of a deathly mission. Something that caused his annoyance towards the other Guardians to be more prominent, decent conversations usually ending in scuffles or long and harsh discussions. Something that made his encounters with Cavallone less attractive, his willing body less appealing, his presence more tedious and boring. Something that, in moments of meditations, filled him with images of his mortal enemy.

His nights were filled with dreams and nightmares on where he saw the same thing repeating over and over: That green and beautiful landscape, the enormous sakura tree; the figure of Rokudo among its shadows with the same pale face adorned with deathly black veins. The same pained tone of his voice calling his name as his body slowly began to crack, crumble and ebb away…

Although he always labeled those dreams as something induced by the intense resentment he felt towards the other man, there was still something in the depths of his soul telling him those visions were something else… something that tried to warn him.

Even so, he partially ignored them. He left them aside mainly because they only contributed to engulfing his head with unanswered questions and useless thoughts. And that was something he couldn't afford to commit to.

- Hibari! Hibari!-

Hibird flew from his shoulder towards the little garden outside his home, chirping his name with enthusiasm. The little bird gave a few rounds in the sky and then went silent, landing softly above a pile of shiny black lake rocks; its reflection visible, feathery and yellowish, on the surface of the decorative pond that was near the pile.

Beaded black eyes looked at him as the bird chirped again.

Hibari watched his little bird from the porch of his home; a steaming cup of tea in his hands, his face calm and collected. This was one of those privileged days of his where he didn't accept missions or visits. Just him in his home, wrapped in the cold but comforting aura of his personal space, silence as his only companion. Time to think, to relax.

He took a sip of his lukewarm drink, his face rising to view the clear blue sky; senses flooding with the gentle warmth of the day; Hibird's chirping as a background sound.

It was in these moments, just when he closed his eyes for a brief moment, that he felt it.

First, as a scent. A soft aroma that sneaked inside his home and wrapped his senses with subtle touches of something irreplaceable and unique… the soft scent of spring and blossoming sakuras.

Then, as a presence of subtle but powerful nature… filling every corner with its energy.

His eyes slowly opened. His cell phone, located on the little table besides him, began to vibrate. Without even looking at the screen, he knew who it was. In the same way he knew to whom belonged that ominous presence in his house.

"Kyoya speaking."

On the other side of the line, he could listen to Sawada's calm but serious tone; the voices of the other Guardians as background noise. "Hibari-san. I need you to come to the Vongola Base immediately."

His expression turned slightly mocking; his body turning from the view of his garden towards the room he was in. "And I need to go because…?"

"Mukuro escaped from the medical wing this morning."

How anxious Sawada sounded. Hibari _almost _felt a little bad for him.

"That isn't necessary, Sawada."

"Huh? Why?"

A feral smile slowly danced on Hibari's lips, his steel eyes shining dangerously as they saw the figure that was slowly emerging from a soft curtain of mist in the middle of the room. "Because Rokudo is in my house right now." Without waiting for a response he ended the call and turned off his cell phone.

All the while, the pale figure of a thin man dressed in black materialized from the depths of the mist; a soft and unique laugh escaping from his lips, ominous in its powerful malice.

- You missed me, Hibari Kyoya? - asked the man, tone soft and poisonous. His finely sculpted face was slightly tilted to one side, long strands of bluish hair adorning the contours of his face and moving gently with the soft breeze coming from the garden. Intense mismatched eyes were shining wickedly in the soft light of the day, sharply contrasting with the almost invisible little scars that subtly marred the contours of his eyelids.

The only visible signs of those torturous ten years of absolute imprisonment.

- Hn. I should bite you to death for trespassing in my house without my permission, Rokudo. - Was the only thing Hibari mentioned, eyes haughty and filled with animalistic passion.

There he was; the real one. Not an illusion of someone trapped in Vindice, not a comatose body trapped in a hospital bed. This was the Rokudo he was waiting for. That confident, powerful man in whose darkened eyes shone the evil gleam and darkness of his occluded soul. His single crimson eye shining with the flames of an eternal hell; the bluish intensity of his remaining eye overwhelming in its powerful influence.

He, so different from the illusionist Hibari once knew ten years ago. Embedded in the fatality of his wicked, cursed allure; bright eyes shining with elegant madness, the corners of his fine mouth hiding the dangerous pretentions of his soul, pale lips full with deadly poison.

That Rokudo, embedded in menace and darkness, was the one that Hibari wanted to confront and defeat.

_You finally came to me, Rokudo._

A tense silence reigned between them, darkened gray orbs connected with alluring blue-red eyes; both linked by the intense flames of endless and passionate fire that strongly burned in their orbs.

- Why are you here, Rokudo? - Hibari finally whispered, placing his already cold cup of tea on the table besides him; his gesture calm and composed.

As an answer, one of Rokudo's hands went upright, a little note in pristine white paper appearing between two of his slender fingers. With the same easy and mocking smirk placed on his lips, he dropped the note; his body slowly shattering and transforming in an endless stream of soft pink sakura petals that soon were washed away by the gentle breeze that came from the garden.

Hibari's facial features tensed slightly when he saw this. His footsteps guided him towards where the little piece of paper innocently lay on top of the wood floor. Crouching slightly, he took it and while he stood up again, slowly unfolded and read it.

The tension, present seconds earlier, abruptly disappeared, only to be replaced by an intense glow of his steel orbs; a feral anticipation marring his features while he slowly placed the little note on the table.

Written inside that little paper, with black ink and elegant handwriting, the words he waited more than ten years to see.

_**I'll be waiting for you and your revenge in the outskirts of Kokuyo Land.**_

_**Come and catch me, if you can.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_I know you suffered__, __but I don't want you to hide__  
><em>_It's cold and loveless, I won't let you be denied_

_Soothe me, I'll make you feel pure__  
><em>_Trust me,__you can be sure_

_I want to reconcile the violence in your heart__  
><em>_I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask__  
><em>_I want to exorcise the demons from your past__  
><em>_I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart_

_(Undisclosed Desires, __**Muse**__) _

**Author notes: **Merry Christmas to everyone (Yes, is waaaay to early, but just in case. XD) Thank you so much for your wonderful support, your comments, reviews, suggestions, kyas! And everything in between. Your comments are the paycheck I need in order to feed my soul! XD. Apologies for the lateness of the chapter, but as usual, both my Beta-Reader and I were diving (and almost drowning) in the chaos that University is.

Special thanks, very, very special thanks to my Beta-Reader _**Death Scimitar**_ who dedicated precious hours of her schedule in order to correct, improve and suggest things for this chapter. You're awesome, girl! _Readers, give her some love too!_

_**Also, thanks to those who reviewed:**_ _CigarettesAndSkittles, PeachTeaKT, TooLazyToSignIn (XD), Death-Scimitar, TheQuietPaperMoon and dobrox10. Thank you all sweeties, hope to see another comment from ya!_

**Dialogue:**

"_Dialogue"_(dialogue in dream sequences)

"Dialogue" (Past conversations or telephone conversations)

- Dialogue- (Present conversations between characters)

_Dialogue_(Thoughts)

_**Chapter III: Dualism. **_

Sawada Tsunayoshi perfectly understood the action he was committing was intransigent and illegal.

_Oh, well. I'm the leader of a mafia family so I shouldn't be __**that **__ashamed of what I'm doing…_

He cast a glance towards the well-groomed yard of the beautiful house he was about to enter. He looked at his Guardians, all of them gathering around his Storm Guardian in order to shield him from unwanted eyes. Said Guardian was fumbling with a little knife he was about to slip inside the keyhole of the door.

_Oh, fuck it. I feel like scumbag._

He didn't like this. Not one bit. But he was desperate.

Once he saw how his Storm Guardian managed to move the knife up and down inside the keyhole, skillfully breaking and deactivating the alarm hidden in the metal handle of Hibari Kyoya's house and then began to pick the mechanical lock, Tsuna repeated in his head the same thing he repeated over all this mess.

_I tried __**everything **__in order to avoid this._

He had called Hibari's cell phone on countless occasions with no answer. He had contacted Kusakabe-san for Hibari's whereabouts with no luck. He had even knocked on the door several times for fuck's sake! No one could say he hadn't tried to contact him by civil means.

- Gotcha! - Gokudera exclaimed, turning the handle and opening the door swiftly with a triumphant smile on his handsome face.

Near him, Yamamoto gave a sigh of relief while Ryohei shook his fist in silent victory and Chrome smiled weakly.

- Chrome-chan, please cast your illusions to protect us from unwanted eyes. We don't want the neighbors to call the police and wreak havoc. – Tsuna kindly ordered to the young woman, a small smile on his face.

Chrome smiled in return and nodded, moving her trident in circles and invoking the Mist to create the desired illusion.

Silently, the remaining Guardians entered Hibari's house, walking slowly along the large wooden corridor, looking everywhere for signs of life.

With every silent corner or room, Tsuna's face hardened. Concern and preoccupation marred the contours of his usually happy and gentle face. He was so worried. The call he had made to Hibari hours ago had left a bad taste on his mouth. Not because his Cloud Guardian cut him off, but because of the words he said before ending the communication.

He cared little about the consequences of his unauthorized entrance to his Cloud Guardian's home. He only wanted to know if both his Guardians (Yes, Mukuro too) were fine.

Contrary to the popular belief, Tsuna's fear wasn't based on the fact Mukuro had escaped from the medical wing. He had always known his Mist Guardian's antics and his carefree nature was something that made it impossible for him to stay locked in one place.

Mukuro had tasted the sweet flavor of freedom after countless years of imprisonment, darkness and torture. It was natural for him to want to escape and, due to his chaotic tendencies, began his dangerous games again. Tsuna always knew that it would be impossible to restrain him. Because Mukuro was someone as ethereal as the Mist he represented.

No, he wasn't worried about the fact Mukuro had escaped. His fear was rooted in the fact he knew where he had gone once he escaped.

His heart ached in terror at the thought of his two most powerful Guardians clashing again.

Tsuna knew Hibari. And he could pride himself in the fact he also knew enough about Mukuro. He knew that once those two found each other, the only consequence would be a catastrophe.

His beloved Cloud Guardian was carrying more than ten years of humiliation and hatred, coiling around his neck like a snake, and marking him with the horrible scar of defeat.

While his Mist Guardian simply loved to cause chaos around him. Tsuna knew perfectly well about the twisted nature of the illusionist, his utter happiness at causing calamity. He knew that, at the prospect of a good fight, Mukuro will jump in evil joy.

For the illusionist, there wasn't anything more appealing than the prospect of blood, pain, and chaos.

Tsuna knew the obsession Hibari Kyoya had with Rokudo Mukuro was strange; something so deep and powerful that it was almost out of control. He also knew Rokudo Mukuro was someone mentally unstable and unpredictable.

Because of that, Tsuna was concerned. He feared for the well-being of those two thick-heads he had come to appreciate. They were his Guardians. Even though Hibari was a constant pain in the ass and Mukuro was someone who _still _terrified him; he cared deeply for them.

_Oh, I have a bad feeling about this._

- Juudaime, - Gokudera whispered his voice soft and cautious.

Tsuna entered the spacious living room. He turned his head towards the small and beautiful garden lingering outside and then towards his Storm Guardian, who had stopped near a small wooden table. On it rested a cup of half finished tea, Hibari's cell phone and a note in pristine white paper which Gokudera had taken, instantly delivering it to his leader.

Sighing and feeling the awful weight of years and responsibilities on his shoulders, Tsuna took the note from his Guardian's hand to examine it. Upon reading it, bright amber eyes widened, anxiety overpowering his senses.

… _Fuck._

- They will kill each other, - he whispered, his tone showing slight resignation as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

The Guardians were silent, looking at each other with worried expressions.

- When Chrome-chan finds out…- Yamamoto whispered, his eyes casting a sidelong glance towards the entrance of the house where the young woman was still perched maintaining the shield against prying eyes.

- Crazy bastards. Those two are fucked up in the head! - Gokudera's fist clenched, his face burning with anger.

Tsuna sighed again, crushing the note and discarding it in the nearest trash can.

_Why do I need to deal with these complicated situations?_

His Guardians were looking at him; Gokudera asking him orders. Everyone was waiting for his verdict; for his plan of action. Determination settled on their faces.

Silently, he walked towards the entrance of the house, his guards following close behind. Once outside he ordered Chrome to cease her illusions and gathered all his Guardians in a tight circle outside Hibari's house. His face was hardened with the seriousness of a man in business and his tone portrayed neither anxiety nor doubts.

- We'll go to Kokuyo District. This has gone too far. I'm not going to let two of my most powerful Guardians kill each other over some petty argument.-

His Guardians nodded vigorously, motivated by the strength in his voice. Chrome's hands were trembling and seeing this, Tsuna smiled at her, one of his hands slightly caressing the young woman's cheek, amber eyes soft and caring.

- Don't worry, Chrome. Everything will be fine, - he said, noticing how the woman smiled, faith visible in her violet orbs.

Without saying another word, everyone climbed into the two black cars waiting underneath the shade of a group of trees.

_Please. Let us be there before it's too late._

*************1869************

The day was warm with the wind blowing gently and carrying delightful scents. Soft rays of sunlight illuminated everything.

With his back resting against his luxurious black car, Hibari Kyoya watched in silence the deplorable façade of the building located in the outskirts of Kokuyo District. Its infrastructure almost reduced to rubble, cracked walls and a decaying atmosphere.

A fragile building with an appearance that signaled imminent danger.

He looked at everything in silent contemplation, grey eyes sharp like an eagle searching for his prey. Always alert, always sensing the push coming from the depths of the building… an ominous and exhilarating energy hidden beneath the alluring pull; a deception to conceal the power he knew was flowing from the crumbling building.

It didn't take a genius to know who was waiting for him inside. Tempting him with his scent, with his cracking power, with his devilish whispers… with his single presence.

Back when he was a teenager, he wouldn't have hesitated to enter tonfas in hand and ready to strike. But now, everything was different.

The building brought back memories of humiliation and defeat. Memories he needed to erase in order to live in peace. That was why he was here. He needed to defeat that man calling him from amongst the shadows in order to gain back his peace of mind; his honor and his pride.

He wasn't afraid. He wasn't anxious. He was cautious, because he knew Rokudo very well. But he was eager, _oh so eager, _to confront him.

_Observe your surroundings. Plan a strategy. Proceed with caution. Take action._

All was necessary. Hibari knew Rokudo; knew about his antics and his sly tricks and knew that the illusionist was powerful, intelligent and a crazy ass bastard.

But, more important than that knowledge, Hibari Kyoya knew the Rokudo Mukuro he was dealing with wasn't the same one he knew ten years ago. He understood it perfectly when he saw him hours ago; he felt it in the subtle but insane shine twinkling in those stunning eyes and in the unstable aura that smoothly wrapped him.

But he liked it that way. He preferred the powerful, dark and insane Rokudo Mukuro. The one that wouldn't hesitate in order to kill, the one with the enough power to make the battle something astounding and unforgettable.

Hibari was burning with the desire of fighting Rokudo. He wanted to catch that lean body between his hands, break his perfect and pale skin, make his thin and luscious lips twist in pain. Break him until his alluring voice emitted only cries of despair and from his lips escaped only pleas and screams.

_How I wish to have you at my feet!_

Hibari's lips contorted in a twisted smile; his quiet steps finding his way towards the large, ominous building waiting for him, his face calm and collected.

As soon as his feet landed on the dusted and decayed floor inside, he felt the ethereal and powerful presence of his enemy filling every corner. His unique aroma mingled with the powerful vibrations of his latent power flowing thorough every nook of the place, enticing his senses… provoking him and guiding him along the desired way.

_Like a mystical creature, singing softly tunes of enchantment… drawing him with his power towards the deepest pits of hell._

He wasn't stupid. The subtle provocations of that creature only caused his anger to increase, his desire to catch him almost unbearable.

He walked steadily through the place, memories and images of years ago flooding in his head. Memories in which he recalled those same walls, those same corridors and those same stairs he had walked in search for that same man who today was calling him. He climbed the rickety stairs, instincts and knowledge guiding him through the maze of endless passageways and doors, the sound of his expensive shoes echoing slightly with each step.

He ended up in front of a long passageway in which a single door remained, broken and slightly off its hinges. With a bitter smile he walked towards it.

He remembered that hallway, that door… and the room behind it.

_Think you can make fun of me, Rokudo?_

He opened the door, entering with a confidence shown in people with no fear. Not a single shred of emotion crossed his face, despite recognizing the dark and dusty room in which ten years ago he was shamefully defeated.

_Do you think stunts like this would lower my defenses, you filthy illusionist?_

He looked the room over, noticing the large broken window where a soft breeze and rays of sunlight streamed in, illuminating the decayed couch on which Hibari had first seen Rokudo Mukuro, that fateful morning ten years ago.

This time, the couch was empty and the room, silent.

Years of endless training against those tricks had endowed Hibari with a keen insight, allowing him to perceive presences hidden in the shadows.

- I know you're here, Rokudo. Get out, before I lose my patience, - Hibari muttered, his voice leveled and body movements alert.

A soft laugh emerged from each of the four corners of the large room, echoing ominously.

- You caught me, Hibari Kyoya.-

Hibari turned quickly, tonfas in hand and ready to strike, grey eyes capturing the lone figure of Rokudo Mukuro. He was leaning against the framework of the shattered door, watching him with a serene smile; long strands of bluish hair framing the contours of his chiseled face.

- Rokudo.-

- I thought for a moment that you wouldn't come… but how wrong I was! - the illusionist commented, his mismatched eyes turning towards the broken window. – Do you remember this place, Hibari Kyoya? –

Hibari could perceive the sarcasm and mockery behind every word. It filled his senses with rage and hatred, causing his grey eyes to gleam dangerously.

He momentarily though about sending to hell all his composure and just attack Rokudo; catch him and strangle him with his own hands until the bones of his neck break…

But reason took control, stopping his stream of thoughts and calming his murder instincts in order to commit and analyze the situation he was in. An action he knew would have been impossible for him to accomplish years ago.

- Oh, I see. You surely have grown, Hibari Kyoya. I was anticipating some type of retaliation, but you maintained your cool very well.-

A sarcastic smile sprouted from the corners of Hibari's lips. - Certainly. But I could say the same doesn't apply to you as well. One would have expected that all those years in confinement and the tortures in Vindice had done something with your bratty attitude. But the only thing that increased was your insanity. - Hibari cruelly commented.

The expression in the illusionist's façade transfigured. The wicked shine in his eyes turned into a dark and dangerous glare; his smile strained and tense.

Hibari noticed it and felt a rush of pride surge through him. He could perfectly see the tormented thoughts that passed through Rokudo´s eyes like a flash, replaced almost immediately with a cold shield of indifference.

_I see. You don't like to remember your time in Vindice, eh Rokudo?_

Hibari was always aware that one of the few weaknesses Rokudo had were the memories of that cursed place. He always knew the aversion the illusionist had for the prison, the defensive shine on those eyes every time someone talked about Vindice, the tension in his sinuous body, and the way his lips contorted in an expression of hatred.

He wasn't the one to feel pity for others, but he certainly understood why Rokudo had aversion towards Vindice. Ten years of constant isolation would leave a mark on anyone… even on him.

Rokudo Mukuro was marked. Even when his façade showed a being of ethereal beauty with a perfect and powerful body his wounds were there, hidden among the illusions he surely had casted upon himself. Surely, the others weren't aware… but Hibari knew.

He knew the perfection Rokudo Mukuro wore was false.

- Do you think this is a game, Hibari Kyoya? – Mukuro whispered, words filled with poison. One of his gloved hands conjured his trident, a maddened expression in his darkened eyes.

Hibari smiled defiantly, brandishing his tonfas and ready to attack.

- Enough talk... It´s time to bite you to death, - the Cloud Guardian said, rushing towards his prey with relentless agility.

His prey, without any doubt, counterattacked him; metal clashing with metal, two faces nearby, two pair of eyes glaring at each other.

_Knew I wouldn't be disappointed by you, Rokudo._

They separated, Mukuro rolling his trident between his fingers with practiced ease and Hibari smiling slyly.

Without any word, they attacked once again. Their weapons collided with a force so great that caused sparks to fly everywhere. Bodies moved with astounding speed; giving and dodging critical attacks, fists colliding with skin, kicks missing their target only by mere millimeters.

They attacked one another with vicious strength; with rage and incontrollable passion, attacks centered in destroying and hurting. They danced among rubble and destruction; engaged in a trance so intense neither could nor wanted to escape. Their breaths grew labored, eyes always connected. Bodies moved, entangling in such a way that was almost feral, almost frighteningly sensual.

Their intensity was palpable. The emotions that crossed their faces were strong, harsh, and beautiful in their powerful and wicked nature.

_This is exactly what I wanted from you, Rokudo Mukuro. _

The battle escalated to levels so fierce and dangerous, and the excitement was so great that once they separated again from their vicious onslaught, the only thing present in both of their minds was the simple, passionate desire of making the other succumb and plead for mercy.

Rokudo clashed his trident against the dirtied floor, his distorted black pupil transforming from a 六to a 一, crimson iris glowing demonically.

Hibari raised his tonfas; his Vongola ring glowing with intense purple flames. This allowed him to perceive the way the floor below his feet slightly trembled at the same instant Rokudo hit the floor with the base of his trident.

In a blink of an eye, Hibari jumped away with almost feline grace, saving himself from the instant destruction of the floor. Large columns of infernal fire sprouted from its depths, destroying the floor and rising splendidly. Part of the ceiling was destroyed as the flames erupted and propagated like fiery whips several meters away from their source.

Grey eyes turned towards the calm illusionist whose perfect face held a mischievous smile.

_This fire is only an illusion._

Yes, Hibari Kyoya _knew _that. But even despite the knowledge, he was able to perceive the intense heat radiating from those infernal pillars, the sweet and at the same time putrid smell of sulfur rising from the flames; the vivid colors of the fire.

Hibari knew about illusions. Over those long ten years, he had devoted a great part of his life to the study of illusions and illusionists. On many mission he had to deal with users of the Mist element. He had seen multiple types of illusion users; illusionists of all calibers he ended up destroying with astounding ease and a bored expression on his face.

He was able to see through their sly manipulations. Hibari had learned illusions always carried within them weakness, blank spots, gaps... something that betrayed the perfection of the illusion itself. When he was able to find that weakness, the illusion was destroyed and the illusionist, defeated.

But with Rokudo Mukuro, none of that happened. Hibari knew the illusions he was able to cast had _some type _of gap, but he was unable to find it. The illusions Rokudo created were so perfect, so flawless and so _realistic _that it was possible for almost everyone to become confused.

And that was something Hibari Kyoya loathed, something that made his blood boil.

_I will find your weakness. I will find it..._

Across the room, Rokudo slightly waved his trident and the columns of fire disappeared in thin air. He then smiled softly, eyes shining with amusement, his long blue hair waving slightly in the soft breeze that entered through the window.

He was like a dream. Someone ethereal, an illusion capable of creating illusions.

Hibari looked at him _and saw him_. Saw his contradictory nature, saw his ethereal and perfect beauty mingled with his mortal and human nature. He saw a human, embedded in the illusion of a deity.

_You want to look like you're immortal. But we both know that isn't true._

This Rokudo was so different from the one Hibari saw in his recurrent nightmares. The being in front of him was so impeccable, compared with the creature he always saw below the blossoming sakura tree, body slowly destroying itself... soft voice crying softly, wailing with agony.

Hibari blinked, his mind dozing off for few seconds. Time that Mukuro took advantage of, attacking him with an impressive speed.

Thanks to his superior reflexes, Hibari was able to block the attack. Tonfas clashed with metal, the tips of Rokudo's trident grazing his left cheek; a fine trail of blood escaping almost instantly.

- Distracted, Kyoya? I feel offended, - Mukuro muttered, eyes gleaming mischievously as he swiftly evaded the kick Hibari sent towards his stomach.

As the fight progressed, the amount of blood visible on both parties increased. Skin broke, bones cracked and breaths hitched. Everything was so intense and horribly dangerous the only thing that, at the end, managed to separate them for good was the final blow both of them delivered to the other. Hibari's iron fist clashed against Mukuro's right temple at the same time the illusionist's own fist collided with tremendous force against Hibari's left cheek.

They moved away from each other, stumbling and hissing in pain, eyes glaring ferociously towards the other. Mukuro was sustained precariously thanks to his trident's help; one of his gloved hands at his temple, which had begun to bleed profusely. The perfection of his once creamy white skin was marred with bruises and the arm whose hand was feebly attempting to stop the bleeding trembled slightly, moving with the difficulty that revealed bones were severely injured.

Hibari wasn't in better shape. His agitated face was distorted in a slight expression of discomfort; his hurting mouth spitting blood once in a while and right leg gently flexing. Visible on the expanse of his right thigh was a deep and bleeding gash Rokudo had managed to inflict with his trident.

Despite the pain and the blood that flowed through both men's skins, neither of them lost the exhilarated grins fixed on their lips. Their eyes were gleaming, adrenaline pulsing through their veins like fire.

- Not bad, Rokudo. Not at all...- Hibari commented, standing proudly amidst his serious injuries.

- Same for you, Hibari Kyoya, - the illusionist answered while he wiped the excessive blood that clouded his vision; crimson liquid marring the right side of his porcelain skin, outlining the mysterious gleam on his cursed eye.

Silence reigned over them, broken only by the soft pants flowing from their mouths. Mukuro turned his head slightly, eyes looking towards the scenery displayed by the broken window far away, looking at the sky covered with golden and purple flares, announcing the imminent fall of dusk.

- This fight has lasted longer than I ever expected, - he said, humming slightly; the 一kanji gleaming softly on his crimson eye.

Fast and precise, he once again began to activate the mechanisms of his illusions; his trident disappearing in thin air, lips contorting in an expression Hibari found smooth, sensual... provocative.

- We should end this once for all, don't you think?-

Slowly, the roof over their heads began to glow with soft, crystalline hues. One by one, beautiful sakura blossoms began to sprout. Their luscious pink buds opened, brilliant petals blossoming with gushing splendor, liberating their exotically sweet aroma.

Hibari's body tensed involuntary, face rising towards the ceiling, watching as pink petals fell on him, landing on his face, hair, shoulders... completely surrounding him.

Intense, fragrant and mystical aroma, slipping softly through his mind; trying to diminish his senses…

His face contorted in a sour expression, following Mukuro's movements; seeing how the illusionist began to walk towards him, smiling softly. His macabre eyes gleamed victoriously.

- Sweet memories, don't you think, Kyoya? – he purred as he stopped in front of Hibari, his smile widening with the spiteful glare Hibari fixed on him.

One of Mukuro's gloved hands rose slowly, fingers stretching and reaching out to graze Hibari's cheek.

- It's a shame, but in the end... you ended up falling again in my simple trap, Kyoya, - the illusionist said, cold leathered fingers gently brushing the pale cheek of his opponent. His remaining hand conjured a shining knife; moving his arm, ready to strike the final blow.

In an instant, Hibari's expression changed and a predatory smile replaced the sour twist of his lips. A gesture that made the illusionist stop for a split second, confusion clear in his mismatched orbs.

That second was enough for Hibari. With an astounding speed, he grabbed the pale wrist holding the knife while he delivered a crushing blow to Rokudo's stomach with his remaining fist. The illusionist muffled a groan, body bending slightly due to the pain.

Wasting no time he twisted the illusionist's wrist, forcing him to drop his weapon. With his remaining hand, Hibari aimed straight towards Rokudo's neck, circling his fingers around the delicate skin and slamming the illusionist's body into the nearest wall. He watched with delight as thin lips slightly opened for air; Mukuro's remaining hand trying in vain to pry open the fingers suffocating him.

Smiling predatorily, Hibari closed the distance between them, his lips grazing softly against one of Rokudo's ears, breath tickling the soft skin.

- You're wrong, Rokudo. The one that fell into a trap was you, - Hibari whispered, noticing how the other's body tensed under his grasp. – It was naïve of you to think that I haven't controlled the _sakura-kura _disease. I had managed to counteract its effects long ago.-

A thin blue eyebrow raised slightly, a small challenging smile grazing Rokudo's lips. He didn't seem concerned, nor fearful. It seemed like he was enjoying the entire spectacle.

- Oh, is that so? Congratulations then, Hibari Kyoya. It is remarkable how much your power has grown in all these years.-

- Apparently I cannot say the same for you, Rokudo. You seem... weaker than I expected you to be, - Hibari replied.

It wasn't true. He considered Rokudo formidable. But he enjoyed the idea of being the one to play the mind games.

- Oh? Do you think that? - Rokudo whispered, pupils dilating, the kanji on his eye changing in a blink of an eye from 一 to 三.

Hibari tensed, expecting another illusion to come charging at him. But the only thing he perceived was a presence, and then the slow crawl of something moving up his leg. His senses noticed the strange sensation moving along his leg, his back; the coarse rasp as something shifted beneath his clothes, smooth and cold as leather. The soft hiss marked the presence of an earth- colored snake that slowly curved around his neck, long and sharp fangs visible while the animal hissed at him.

- You, Hibari Kyoya, don't know a thing about my abilities. Don't you ever think you can underestimate them...- Rokudo whispered, eyes shining dangerously.

As an answer, Hibari strengthened his hold around Rokudo's neck, noticing how the snake coiled more tightly around his own neck, fangs dangerously close his jugular.

He knew the animal coiling around his neck wasn't an ordinary snake. He knew the venom embedded in its glands were sufficient to kill him in less than five minutes. But Hibari Kyoya cared little about that, embedded in the dark pleasure on seeing his fingers marking the soft, pulsing, perfect white skin of Rokudo Mukuro. He gained satisfaction in seeing him thrash and retaliate, in seeing his lovely mouth opening slightly, sucking air with those greedy, luscious lips of his...

- I could break your neck in less than a second, - Hibari whispered, smiling dangerously.

- Kill me then. But I would rest assured in the fact that the poison in my little friend would make you join me in hell...-

Their bodies touched gently. Rokudo cornered, Hibari looming over him. Their faces were close, eyes fixed on the other; breaths mingling.

Hibari was able to perceive the slightly accelerated pulse in Rokudo's jugular; the warmth radiating off his skin. The different shades of blue in one of his eyes contrasted with the intense shade of red in his cursed eye. He could perfectly see the scars of stitches adorning his upper eyelids in rows and he could smell his unique aroma, the scent Rokudo seemed to always carry with him...

... the scent of fresh lotus flowers.

To his great satisfaction, he could also see how the ethereal perfection was slowly disappearing from Rokudo's form, illusions shattering slowly by his hand.

Hibari liked to see him like that. It was exhilarating to see the marks he caused marring that perfect skin; the bloodshed by his hand. He was marking him.

_You... are mine, Rokudo Mukuro. Only mine._

He was fascinated. Fascinated with the being in front of him, the man bruised and bleeding whose humanity was hidden behind a deep layer of monstrosity. The man whose eyes showed no fear, whose smile only displayed his ever-present insanity.

_You intrigue me so much, Rokudo._

He slowly eased his grip on the illusionist's neck and the snake did the same around his own. He never looked away... always clashing with the endless abyss of those intriguing eyes.

They didn't part from each other, even when seconds later Sawada Tsunayoshi entered the room with a roaring sound. The door tore from its hinges, flying across the room and crashing soundly against a wall at a far corner.

They were so trapped in each other that neither of them addressed him; so great was the magnetic energy binding them.

- Hibari-san! Mukuro! This is enough. Stop this madness now!-

At last they disconnected their stares. Two pair of eyes turned towards the young Vongola leader accompanied by his loyal Guardians, his expression far from collected.

Hibari's lips twisted in distaste. Mukuro gave off a weak, amused chuckle.

- Ah! I think... the fun is over, - the illusionist casually said, the kanji on his eye changing towards his usual 六, the snake around Hibari's neck disappearing as if it was another simple illusion. The Cloud Guardian completely released his grip on Rokudo's neck.

The silence that followed was broken almost instantly by the distressed call of Chrome Dokuro, who slid between their companions and walked steadily towards her dear master.

- Mukuro-sama. - she whispered, eyes bright with unshed tears. He turned his gaze towards her, a rare and genuine smile adorning his features while he accepted the hug his pupil immediately threw to him, petting the violet strands of hair while the girl sunk her head on the warmness of his chest.

- You're so big, my dear Chrome! I can't believe you're a woman now. – Mukuro whispered his tone fatherly.

- I'm only twenty three, Mukuro-sama. - she whispered, a little baffled and red.

- But you have grown so much! Looking at you, I feel extremely old, - Rokudo said, petting the woman's head once more.

Near him, Hibari frowned; eyes turning as cold as ice. Irritated, he looked away from the conversation between pupil and teacher and silently walked towards the exit, ignoring the stares he received from the other Guardians and Tsunayoshi.

Before reaching the exit, however, he was stopped by Sasagawa Ryohei, whose hand rested upon his shoulder; face showing concern and surprise.

- That battle seemed extreme. Are you okay, Kyoya? – he asked, pressing on his shoulder lightly as to emphasize his question.

Hibari first looked at the hand at his shoulder and then at the white haired man; his face stoic and portraying none of the emotions he felt minutes ago. He watched the alarmed and suspicious faces of the other Guardians and the intense concern written in Tsunayoshi's amber orbs.

- That's none of your business, Sasagawa. – he snapped, ebbing away from the Sun Guardian's touch, body standing proudly amidst the throbbing pain on his injured, bleeding leg. He heard Sawada calling him, but he paid little attention to it. Instead he stopped at the framework of the now gone door, wiping the trail of blood that spilled from his mouth and looked back at Mukuro. The illusionist was standing with his summoned trident that served him as a support as one of his gloved hands tried to stop the slight but continuous bleeding emanating from his right temple. A worried Chrome tried to help him with no avail.

Blue and red connected with dark grey for one more time.

- Don't think that this is over, Rokudo. We will settle this on another occasion.-

Eyes shining malevolently, Rokudo nodded softly, lips forming a smile of sensual provocation.

Without another word, Hibari turned and left. The beginnings of a satisfied smile slowly formed on his face.

_Today we had a draw. But trust me, Rokudo... Next time everything will be different._

*************1869************

- Your actions were irresponsible, Mukuro. – That was the first thing Sawada Tsunayoshi said hours later, sitting behind his large oak desk inside his office in the Vongola base, an impassive Rokudo Mukuro sitting before him.

The illusionist calmly watched him, fiddling absentmindedly with a strand of his long hair. His face and body showed no signs of abuse, flawless and perfect. All of his appearance betraying the fact that only few hours ago he was engaged in a brutal and bloody battle with none other than Hibari Kyoya.

Tsuna knew it was impossible for Mukuro to heal that fast from the horrible bruises he acquired from the battle. That was why he attributed the perfection to an illusion. An excellent one at that.

After the incident with Hibari, Tsuna had convinced Mukuro to return with him to the Vongola base to treat his wounds and talk to him about business. He needed to know how willing Mukuro was in the deal of helping the Vongola family; needed to know if the illusionist was going to accept his role as a Guardian or if he was just going to ditch them, like he promised ten years ago when he proclaimed his hatred towards the Mafia.

Once they had arrived at the base, Mukuro had disappeared for an extended amount of time, refusing the medical treatment offered and leaving behind a confused Tsuna, a suspicious Gokudera, and concerned Chrome, Ryohei and Yamamoto.

But he came back. He had appeared before Tsuna's desk in a swirl of Mist, impeccably dressed in black and white and showing a perfect, unmarred physique, no vestige of injuries or blood visible on his alabaster skin.

He had looked too perfect, in Tsuna's opinion. So much, if it weren't for the marks of stitches adorning in rows his eyelids, it would have been impossible for Tsuna to believe this man was the same man that only few weeks ago was taken out from Vindice after ten years of imprisonment; unconscious and fragile as a figure made of glass.

It was amazing, really. It was a power to be admired, creating illusions capable of fooling others with its precise reality. Tsuna knew that kind of power, that ability Rokudo Mukuro had was far beyond the abilities possessed by Chrome Dokuro, by Fran, or by any other illusionist he had met in his life.

It was unique… and monstrous.

- Ah! Sawada Tsunayoshi… I think I misunderstood you. Could you tell me what actions I did that you considered wrong? - Mukuro whispered, the always present fake smile on his lips.

Tsuna sighed again. Here he was, in his office with Mukuro, desperately trying to talk about issues the illusionist didn't seem to give a damn to.

_I don't know why I'm surprised by his attitude._

- You escaped from the medical wing of the Vongola base, Mukuro. You escaped and went to pick a fight with Hibari Kyoya, knowing that you weren't fully recovered and that the relationship between you and him is tense, - he explained, unfazed by the intense gaze of those mismatched orbs.

Years ago, he wouldn't have been able to withstand Mukuro's terrifying gaze, let alone speak behind closed doors with him. But after many years of dealing with issues, death threats, Mafia wars, killings and whatever else that accompanied the title of the Vongola Family boss, he was a braver man and his confidence in his own abilities made him someone with little fear.

He wasn't going to deny that Mukuro's presence didn't cause him some… anxiety. It was impossible not to feel that type of emotion around someone as mysterious and as unpredictable as him, but it was also true that he knew Mukuro wouldn't do any bad to him. '

At least that was what he wanted to believe.

Besides, he considered Mukuro as a part of his beloved family, whether Mukuro liked it or not. Tsuna appreciated him, even with his quirks and strange demeanors. It was mainly for that reason he worked so much to release him from that horrible prison.

_I have no regrets for doing that… because he is one of my dear Guardians._

- You shouldn't worry about silly concerns, Sawada Tsunayoshi. As you can see, I'm perfectly fine and the… exchange between Hibari Kyoya and I was just… a friendly scuffle.-

_Friendly scuffle, my ass…_

- Mukuro, you shouldn't have done any of the things you did. I know that you and Hibari have your issues, but I don't want to see either of you getting hurt.-

- Ah! The merciful leader… how sweet of you!-

Tsuna was able to perceive the veiled sarcasm, hurtful and wretched, embedded in Mukuro's words. He could also feel the bitterness hidden behind seemingly harmless smiles and the hatred shining in the depths of those intriguing mismatched orbs.

He understood those negative feelings, he really did. Mukuro was a man whose childhood was marked by tortures and experimentations caused by the _Estraneo famiglia_, a Mafia family that destroyed his soul and his body in order to construct a monstrous being. He was a man whose hands were stained with blood since he was a little child. A man that was locked more than ten years inside a dark, cold prison, suffering isolation and more tortures… treated like the monster everyone considered him to be.

Mukuro hated the Mafia, because they were the ones who brought him misfortune and pain. Tsuna was part of the Mafia… so it was logical that Mukuro would hate him too.

But Tsuna would change that. He would make Mukuro see that not all was pain and darkness in the Mafia. He would help him and make him a part of his beloved family.

- Enough, Mukuro. I am giving this speech for the sake of both you and Hibari. I will talk to him as well so this can be settled. Remember this; both you and Hibari are my Guardians.-

A dry laugh escaped from Mukuro's lips, eyes shining menacingly.

- You're so funny, Sawada Tsunayoshi. Speaking about things like mercy, consideration, equality and familial love… You make me want to puke.-

Tsuna didn't flinch at Mukuro's cruel comment, his gaze always fixed on the alabaster face and on those eyes in which glowed the hatred, hidden behind the perfection of his façade.

- Why can't you trust me, Mukuro? I fought for ten years to get you out of prison. I want you to be my Mist Guardian and fight by my side. I want you to be a friend _and _a member of my Family. I don't want to leave you behind… -

Mukuro was silent. His smirk slowly disappeared, eyes showing turmoil of new expressions.

- Chrome… What about Chrome? - he finally said, voice harsh.

Tsuna blinked, slightly confused at the sudden question.

- What about her?-

- You say you want me to be your Mist Guardian. But I know that Chrome is the legal Guardian right now. Are you going to ditch her in order to give me her title? She who was faithful to you and carried out all your missions with efficiency and loyalty? -

- Of course not, Mukuro. I would never throw her aside. It was her that suggested giving you the Mist ring. She believes that you're the true carrier of the ring. Chrome has become extremely powerful, but I have noticed that her gentle nature impedes her to do some of the missions conferred to the Guardian of the Mist. She also knows it and that was why she suggested the switch. I want her to live a peaceful life with the other girls…-

- You're only looking for someone whose hand doesn't tremble when killing. Someone with a soul black enough to not care about others, to torture and control them when needed. Yes… I am aware that my dear and sweet Chrome is too innocent for such dirty work. But I laugh a little at the way you classify us: she, the innocent and naïve girl and I, the ruthless man capable of committing the acts necessary to be your Guardian.-

Tsuna blushed slightly and at this, Mukuro smiled amusingly.

- Mukuro, I don't…-

- Don't lie to me, Sawada. We both know perfectly well that that was exactly what you were thinking…. And I have to say, it's entirely true. You could say… that killing, torturing and controlling people are few of my favorite hobbies.-

A wicked gleam appeared in Mukuro's mismatched orbs, and Tsuna stiffened, face alert.

- Mukuro…-

- Deal.-

Tsuna's eyes widened at this, face showing surprise. Mukuro chuckled, fingers drumming the surface of his armrests.

- Yes, Sawada Tsunayoshi. You want a Guardian to replace my beloved Chrome. And my answer is yes, I would be that Guardian. It's not _that_ hard to comprehend, is it?-

Tsuna's whole body seemed to calm down profoundly with those simple words; color returning to his pale face. – Are you sure, Mukuro? –

- If I wasn't, I wouldn't have answered. – After saying this, Mukuro rose from his seat. - Now if you'll excuse me, I must go.

Just when he was about to exit Tsuna's office, the aforementioned stopped him with a question made with a tone full of doubt. – Mukuro… Why? –

The illusionist's face turned enough to give the Vongola leader a sidelong glance, his red eye gleaming softly in the dull glow of the room.

- I think you know the answer perfectly well, Sawada Tsunayoshi. - After that, he made a polite gesture and left the office, leaving a troubled Tsuna behind.

*************1869************

_Walk steadily. Look at everyone with mockery. Walk._

He walked, watching everyone with a mocking expression, receiving curious and suspicious glances in return.

He smiled falsely, highlighting with that gesture the mysterious beauty he possessed; attracting glances along the endless corridors, causing whispers to arise in its wake.

_Poor humans…it is so simple to trick them._

On his way he saw many familiar faces. He saw both Sasagawa Ryohei and Takeshi Yamamoto, both chatting happily in a corner. They saw him. Curious glances were directed towards him, followed by cheery smiles and good natured waves of their hands

He smiled, softly and beautifully; face bowing slightly in acknowledgment to then continue his path, leaving the two Guardians and their stares behind.

_Walk. Just walk._

He continued down the large corridor, seeing Hayato Gokudera walking towards him from the opposite side, reading some papers and with a serious expression on his eyes. He passed him quietly, smiling softly when he heard the Storm Guardian's steps stop and felt his eyes on his retreating back.

He turned the corner and stopped just in time to avoid a collision with the poor man whose soul was distracted enough to not know where he was walking.

The man stumbled almost comically, his messy golden hair highlighting a friendly face and brilliant hazel orbs. Those light eyes immediately were fixed on him, irises darkening slightly after few seconds of scrutiny. His tall body fixed itself in a proud and dignified stance.

- Rokudo Mukuro, I suppose, - whispered Dino Cavallone, tone biting and cold; eyes inspecting him up and down with intensity and animosity.

_Oh… I see that you don't like me too much, Cavallone. I wonder why…_

- Dino Cavallone, - Mukuro acknowledged, and without saying anything more he went on his way, feeling the tension emanating from the other's body… feeling those hazel eyes glaring at his back.

_I don't like the way you're looking at me, Cavallone. How about turning that hatred into pain?_

He briefly closed his eyes and sighed, face tense. Continuing his walking, he stopped at the entrance of the room assigned to him and without thought he entered, closing the door behind him and leaning against its cold surface.

In a blink of an eye his smile disappeared, face setting aside his mocking expression to become a serious, hard and emotionless façade. He closed his eyes, and let out the breath he was holding; eyelids trembling slightly.

_I feel… exhausted._

One of his hands gripped the metal handle of the door as his body went flat against the surface. With his eyes closed, he let go of the heavy and tiring illusions he was casting upon himself.

Pain came with absurd fastness, rippling through his bones and muscles. He clenched his teeth, a muffled moan escaping his lips. The injuries created by Hibari Kyoya's ruthless attacks were now visible as purplish bruises and bloodied wounds on his skin; clouding his vision with pain.

He was so exhausted that he wasn't able to sustain his illusions anymore; not without compromising the illusions cast upon his dear Chrome's organs. He had conjured those illusions of health and vitality in order to escape the medical wing; in order to move and control the minds of those that interfered on his way. He had used them in order to escape, in order to find Hibari Kyoya and in order to attract him and fight him.

And again he had used his dear illusions to cover his horrible wounds from prying eyes, to mask the pain and suffering of his aching body caused by Hibari Kyoya. Because it was necessary, to deceive others. To appear as perfect and flawless as possible; to ebb away any kind of weakness…

He couldn't let anyone see him as weak. Because if he did, they would surely destroy him. He wasn't going to be destroyed.

_I was born… to destroy everything on my path to victory._

Gathering what little strength he had left in his body, he moved towards the bathroom, one of his hands pressed against his right temple, where the blood had dried, causing his hair to stick uncomfortable to his brow. He turned the light on and rested the palms on the edge of the sink; staring impassively at the round mirror.

It wasn't the flawless Rokudo Mukuro who stared back. No, his image only conveyed the ghostly pale face of a human. A man whose face stood out with his own crimson blood, blended with cuts, bruises and scars that accentuated his humanity. A man whose eyelids were marred with grotesque stitch scars, highlighted by the paleness of his face and the blood covering it. A _human _man whose mismatched eyes revealed the pain, the hatred, the bitterness and the madness… face tired and broken, beautiful in its sad and genuine allure.

_Look at you now, Mukuro. Aren't you pathetic?_

Slowly, a smile formed on his lips. The smile quickly turned into a dry laugh, punctuated by intensity proper of a madman. He tipped his head back, laughter turning into a demented wail, creating echoes in the small bathroom. He faced the mirror again, his laughter gradually fading, lips forming an unnaturally mad grin.

_Humanity makes you pathetic, Mukuro._

He raised one of his fists and smashed the mirror; the surface shattering instantly. Pieces fell to the bottom of the sink, blood gushed in fine rows from his fist, creating intricate patterns while descending towards his wrist.

The manic smile disappeared, replaced by an emotionless expression. His head lolled to the side, watching his distorted, multiplied image in the remaining cracked pieces of the mirror; countless mismatches eyes gleaming with derangement.

_How many years have passed since the last time I felt pain?_

It was exhilarating, feeling something as simple as pain cursing through one's veins. It was deliciously crazy, the sense of human vulnerability that afflicted him. Him, who always considered himself one step ahead the human race.

_And all this pain is thanks to whom? Hibari Kyoya, of course._

He recalled with satisfaction the battle with that man only hours ago. That intense struggle in which the man who stood before him wasn't the same reckless and bellicose Hibari Kyoya from ten years ago, but a man whose strategies and calm demeanor managed to invoke an intense fascination.

Throughout his whole life only a handful of enemies had managed to inflict injuries on him. But only Hibari Kyoya, only him… was able to disrupt his emotions twice. Only Kyoya was able to make him surface as the monster he really was; his emotions in turmoil, his stability broken… everything because of that man.

_It should be logical_, he thought, _after all he is one of my obsessions._

He began to slowly pour some water on his bloody wounds, lips pressed in a harsh expression.

Now, he was here, inside the headquarters of the Vongola famiglia and soon he would be part of this family… Soon he would be the Guardian of the Mist, one of the protectors of the Vongola.

_Yes… All of this is going to be over soon._

How many years had he waited for an opportunity like this one? More than ten locked in a putrid jail. With no light, no sound, nor taste, smell or touch. With unspeakable tortures everyday; locked away like a beast, like a monster.

His mind only focused on plotting, thinking… soul full of hatred and agony.

Now he was free; no longer tortured or caged. The stitches on his eyelids were almost completely healed and his eyes were finally fully open to see the light, and to use his power to its full extent. Now… he could do everything that had been denied to him years ago.

This time would be different. He would not resort to direct threats and chaotic displays of power in order to cause commotion. This time, everything would be different.

_Within the illusions hide real illusions; from real illusions, the illusions are created. Within the truth hides the lie, within the lie hides the truth._

_I am… the Mist, and I will deliver the final blow to the Mafia World._

He raised one of his bloodied fingers and slowly licked the crimson liquid. His tongue caressed thin lips, smearing them with blood. Red eye glinting madly as a small, cold smile adorned his features.

_Deceive them… I will deceive them. Make them think I'm their ally; wrap them slowly in the illusion of comfort and trust._

_Slowly… and then I will crush them. I will destroy everyone in this wretched Mafia. I will make them cry tears of blood and scream with agony for everything I had lost, for every path in Hell that I was forced to cross, for my lost and shattered childhood, for all the pain, and the solitude… and the anger, and the hatred._

_They will mourn, they will bleed, they will cry and beg and plead… and every tear, every drop of blood, every scream will serve to replenish my dry, hardened, darkened soul._

He will see they experience each and every of the tortures he himself experienced. He will send the Mafia to the deepest pits of Hell…

- What a pity it is… for you to be part of the Mafia, Kyoya,- he whispered, eyes showing a tinge of sadness. - It saddens me so much to know that sooner or later I will have to destroy you.-

_After all… all the Vongola are going to die._

- Indeed, it will be so sad… my dear Kyoya.-

_But it is necessary. And it's fair._

_Eye for an eye… my dearest famiglia._

His eyes closed, fingers sliding down his face; smile still present.

- I… should be happy, - he whispered, tone reflective.

_But I am not. I cannot even remember what happiness felt like._

- Such a sad, fucked up piece of shit I am, - he muttered jokingly, laughing; tone saddened and impersonal.

Dull as the sad sound of a revived corpse whose heart was broken and whose soul was lost.

*************1869************

Here's the chapter. Hope you like it! Reviews, comments, questions or critiques are welcomed.

Just for those who doesn't know/can't remember:

1. 一: Kanji for one. It represents the Realm of Hell (Naraka Path). It is the realm that permits Mukuro to create illusions capable of manifesting in the real world.

2. 三: Kanji for three. It represents the Realm of the Beasts. Grants Mukuro with the power to summon and control deadly animals such as poisonous snakes or wild dogs.

3. 六: Kanji for six. This is the Realm of Heavens. (Deva Path). This grants Mukuro the power to possess and control others. Also confers protection. It is the one most commonly seen on his eye.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Tales of a bird who fell in love with a corpse.

**Couples:** HibarixMukuro (1869), HibarixDino (18D)

**Warnings:** Explicit boy/boy content, gore, crude language, character suffering, angst.

**Author's notes:** OMG, I'm such a liar. I'm very sorry for the lateness, but classes were hell and well, life all in all was hell these last months. I'm deeply sorry for the large span, but well, now classes are over and I'm free to write a little faster. My Beta-Reader and I worked hard on this little chapter, so we hope it would be entertaining for you to read. Thank you so much for all the beautiful comments, positive feedback and suggestions you all gave to this little baby. Please, continue to do so: your comments are the paycheck we strive to gain and the food this babe needs in order to grow.

As always, VERY special thanks to my dearest Beta-Reader**_ Death-Scimitar_**. This girl is awesome, and without her, this fanfic would have been a lost cause. Please readers, give her lots of love too!

PD: Please, if you are susceptible to large amounts of gore, blood and suffering DO NOT read this chapter. For those who don't mind (or don't care) about this, please, go on. Neither Death Scimitar nor I are responsible for possible mental breakdowns. (XD).

With nothing else to say, please, enjoy the chapter!

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

_I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel._

_I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real._

_The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting._

_Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything._

_You could have it all._

_My empire of dirt._

_I will let you down, I will make you hurt._

_If I could start again, a million miles away_

_I would keep myself… I would find a way._

_**(Hurt- Nine Inch Nails)**_

%%%%%%%%%%%

_**Chapter 4: Touch**_

He was dancing… moving slowly through the middle of a field of destruction created by his own hands.

He moved among pools of blood, his feet staining with the lifeblood of those human beings screaming for mercy and writhing on the floor. Their agonic pleas mingled with the last breaths of their massacred and destroyed bodies.

He was filled with euphoria. His body bathed in the blood of those he killed mercilessly as his blackened, fragmented and hate-filled heart pounded harshly. A wicked excitement showed in his demonic eyes, on the beautifully mad grin his lips wore.

Laughing quietly, he took his glowing trident, rolled it between his fingers and harshly plunged its metal tips into the head of a screaming man. A sickening crunch, blood splattered at his feet… silence.

A wave of pained moans and terrified shrieks suddenly rose from those who still lived. Their bodies were scattered everywhere, horrified expressions filling their faces.

What had previously been the meeting room of an influential Japanese Mafia family was now a place drawn from the grotesque nightmares of a sick mind.

The artificial lights embedded in the ceiling casted an almost surreal glow on the crimson stained walls and on the vast amount of blood on the floor where countless of bodies lay. Men writhing, screaming, pleading. Bodies lay motionless, silent with the influx of Death, their flesh cut open, their limbs scattered, their faces distorted in a way that was almost impossible to tell whether they were humans or monsters.

Amidst the human carnage, his figure bathed in red stood out, feet running along puddles of blood. His face was glowing with the beautiful façade of psychotic complacency and his blue hair swayed slightly with each step he took.

With amused pleasure, he pulled his trident out from the core of the dead man's head and began to walk among the bodies, killing those who still held a breath of life. His hands were firm, red soaking his gloves and dripping slowly.

Every time his hands ended a life, a strange and almost gentle smile graced his inhuman and beautiful features and a spark of peace lighted his orbs.

Silence covered the place. No more screams or pleas were heard.

The only thing that perturbed the silence was the dull sound of two beating hearts: his and the one belonging to his last victim.

He walked among the desecrated bodies, kneeling before the last survivor. It was a man whose grey hair was dyed bright red with blood, whose wrecked face gave him a withered look, black eyes challenging, even though in their depths were hidden the vast amount of horror he really felt.

A man whose once healthy body was now a mere trunk, his arms and legs cleanly cut and bloodily scattered all over the room.

The man opened his mouth; a thin trickle of saliva mingled with blood flowed from his quivering lips. – W… Why? –

A simple question, made in a desperate… almost pleading tone.

- Why? - the murderer repeated. A frightening chuckle escaped from thin lips. - It's really simple, Mr. Mafioso.-

In the blink of an eye, the bloody leather glove of the murderer went through the man's chest, fingers closing around his beating heart and tearing the warm organ from its cavity with a sickening sound.

An agonized cry came out of the man, eyes glistening like crystals. The murderer smiled beautifully, the warm, still beating organ encased by his long, dripping fingers.

- I need to clean the filth from this world…- he said, letting the heart slip of his fingers and fall near the eternally terrified face of the now dead man.

He rose from his kneeling position and walked towards one of the nearest white walls. One of his hands rose, slender fingers smeared with blood starting to draw with delicate ease. When finished, he let his gaze wander around the frightening destruction and then towards one of the large windows, where a bright full moon cast on its platinum-grey rays over the entire scene.

- It's time… Let the game begin. - A mere whisper, soft and sinister. A dark smile grazing petal-soft lips.

Where seconds before his presence was, now floated a fine, ethereal curtain of mist.

*********1869*********

_The scenery had changed._

_No longer was he on that mysterious valley of shining, emerald green grass. A huge lake, infested with blood, greeted him this time._

_Across that sickening lake, was an ethereal-looking Rokudo looking intently at him. His long hair swayed behind him, grazing his pale features covered with thin black veins._

_Rokudo raised his hand. From it, a pink butterfly sprang._

_As the butterfly flew from Rokudo's hands, he started moving; slowly submerging into the bloody waters. _

_He__ received the little animal, which rested on his palm and slowly began to transform in the same, beautiful lotus marked with the black veins of his owner._

_He looked up and saw Rokudo sinking further, his body disappearing among the blood. His face was slowly fragmenting, skin peeling away and falling… destroying his beauty._

_Before disappearing, a small smile formed on Rokudo's lips; eyes glowing with reflections of crimson… his mouth opening slightly._

_Rokudo's voice was like a whisper on his ear. Soft… urgent._

"_Do you know what rests on your outstretched palm, Hibari Kyoya?"_

_The lotus flower was shining with a vitality that harshly contrasted with the black veins surrounding it._

_Rokudo's face disappeared below the bloody waters._

_Silence. An oppressive kind of silence._

_He touched the flower. Its delicate petals seemed to tremble with his subtle brush._

"_No. I don't know."_

_A horrible, desperate scream burst from the depths of the bloody lake._

Hibari Kyoya rarely awoke as he did; with a startled gasp. With alert eyes he lifted silk sheets from his body, looking at every corner of his half-lighted room. Before him, the television was on, tuned on the morning news.

Slowly, his gaze drifted towards his outstretched and empty hand. Irritated, he locked his fingers in a tight fist, anger coiling from within.

_What the hell is happening to me?_

He climbed out of bed, ignoring both the clock and the television and went to his wardrobe, taking one of his black suits and a red tie. Once he closed the little wooden door, his eyes met with the pale reflection that stared back at him through the full length mirror hanging from it.

Eyes instantly traveled south towards the long, deep, and ugly scar on his right thigh, which still bore the pinkish hue of a fresh wound.

A month had almost gone by since that last battle with Rokudo Mukuro. The only tangible remnant of the entire event was that single, horrible scar. A wound he himself had healed and sown. A wound that told those capable of seeing it, at some point in the battle, he had let his guard down enough to be wounded.

Wounded by none other than Rokudo.

"_Do you know what rests on your outstretched palm, Hibari Kyoya?"_

Hibari blinked at the sudden recollection. Everything was so troublesome. Why couldn't he have a single night without those despicable dreams about his mortal enemy disturbing his peace of mind?

Maybe he was thinking about Rokudo too much. Maybe he didn't know how to stop thinking about him.

He thought too much about that last battle. He thought about how to provoke another one.

He was always thinking about how to beat Rokudo. How to finish him.

His obsession was maddening enough to be considered abnormal. He needed to have Rokudo Mukuro at his feet, bleeding and pleading.

He desired to have his fingers around that thin, pale neck again. To have Rokudo's life in the palm of his hand. To have his body close, listen to his beating heart, feel his heat, his emotions, smell his fear and look at his beautiful face contorted in pain and agony.

_I wonder… Why is it only you who manage to make me feel these dark and primitive emotions, Rokudo Mukuro?_

He desired to erase that illusory perfection from Rokudo's face; shatter it in order to have the real man, the bleeding, human man that lay beneath the surface.

Hibari wanted, needed to mark Rokudo. Make him his. Imprint on that body of alabaster and snow his marks, bites, and wounds so no one had the slightest doubt that he, and only he, Hibari Kyoya, was the one with the right to beat him, make him suffer, challenge him and have him under control.

He traced the scar on his thigh, face expressionless.

"_Someday I will create a wound far deeper on Rokudo's body."_

He cast a glance towards the opened window of his room. Outside, a storm announced itself, grey clouds carrying the promise of an unstoppable rain.

He was so engrossed in his inner musings and on finding some logic to the dreams plaguing his mind night after night that he didn't pay the slightest attention to the urgent news cast upon the television screen.

If his mind had been a little more alert, if he had at least looked towards the bright screen showing the news, he would have been able to capture the grotesque images that filled the featuring report on the news. The enormous room full of corpses, the disfigured and mangled bodies…

… and a lone image, where a heart rested in a pool of dark, rich crimson blood beside the disfigured corpse of something that resembled a man with eternally terrified eyes. Behind the body, engraved on a white wall, was the symbol of a renowned Mafia family, painted with bloody strokes.

Hibari Kyoya never saw any of it, so deep was his musings, so far was his mind from reality.

When he finished organizing the records of his latest missions in his briefcase, he took his coat and the remote control and, without giving a look, turned the television off.

The moment he did that, a strange kind of feeling settled within himself.

"_Feels like I have forgotten an important matter."_

Hibari frowned, and without thinking too much about it, left the room.

His destination: The hated Vongola HQ's.

*********1869*********

The first thing Hibari Kyoya realized once he crossed the Vongola HQ's front doors was the unusual amount of bustling people crowding and running everywhere.

Men and women dressed in black came and went quickly, talking to each other with quick and hushed whispers. Slightly familiar faces went by his field of vision, carrying a variety of documents, running in all directions, ordering each other.

Visibly irritated, Hibari continued his way towards Sawada Tsunayoshi's office in order to deliver his mission reports and leave. Heaven forbid him of staying more time than necessary in a place so infested by herbivores.

However, he felt the mechanisms of suspicion gearing inside his head. It was a normal occurrence to have a lively atmosphere in the Vongola HQ, mainly because Sawada always encouraged it. But to see this level of bustle and anxiety was unusual.

It was as if they were preparing themselves for some kind of future occurrence. What kind of occurrence? He didn't know. But judging based on the unusual amount of movement; it was going to be something big.

The idea of an attack flew to his mind. Hibari quickly discarded it. It was absurd. The mere idea of someone attacking the most powerful Mafia Family not only of Japan, but of the entire continent, was almost hilarious.

_What the hell is going on?_

On his way towards Sawada's office he met with Hayato Gokudera, who was leaning casually against the wall, smoking a cigarette. A grim expression marred his pale features, something that activated the alertness in Hibari's mind.

Upon seeing him, the Storm Guardian stood from his position and walked towards him, his expression slightly relieved.

- For fuck's sake, Kyoya! We thought you weren't going to come, - Gokudera exclaimed, shaking hands briefly with him.

- What are you talking about? - Hibari replied curtly, his eyes glinting suspiciously.

- Didn't you receive the message Juudaime sent to you?-

Hibari pulled out his cell phone and shrugged when he saw that it was dead. He had forgotten to charge it the night before.

- Well, we're lucky you decided to drop by. Juudaime called us for an emergency meeting. Some of the other fella's already arrived.-

Hibari growled in annoyance. He hated meetings, especially those involving Sawada and the other Guardians. Those reunions extended for endless hours, surrounded by a crowd and listening to meaningless chatter and banter.

- What's the meeting about? - Hibari tensely asked.

- You didn't see the news? - Was the cryptic reply. Without waiting for an answer, Gokudera sighed. - No, you sure didn't. Well then, you will find out what the shit's about at the meeting.

- If the meeting is as important as you say, what are you doing standing outside and looking like an idiot? - Hibari replied, tone scathing.

- You sure are lively today, Kyoya, - Gokudera icily remarked.- Juudaime sent me to retrieve Mukuro. He fears that the bastard wasn't going to come. I personally see it as a lost cause, so I haven't taken the effort to look for him. Surely Mukuro wouldn't come and I know it would be impossible for me to force him to do it.-

- Where is he? - Hibari suddenly asked eyes hard and cold.

- How should I know? He's a slippery little bastard. Juudaime told me some people caught a snippet of him in the training room on third floor. But I think…- Before Gokudera could finish, Hibari raised one of his hands, his face set.

- Go to the meeting. I'll take care of Rokudo.-

- But…- Gokudera protested. The Cloud Guardian completely ignored him and kept going.

He hated Vongola meetings. The sooner he found Rokudo, the faster the meeting would be over and he would be able to get the hell out of there.

_That's not the reason why you agreed to seek Rokudo and you know it, Kyoya._

Hibari ruthlessly shook his head, lips set in a tight line.

He took the elevator to the third floor and continued his way through a long, empty corridor with gray walls and dim light. At the end of the corridor, a simple gate innocently waited; a metal sign reading "Vongola Training Room" carefully embedded on its surface.

Hibari stopped in his tracks before the door. A dark, familiar sensation seized him. Instinctively, he touched his Cloud ring, mind alert and ready for attacking. Without any kind of doubt, he took the metal handle and opened the door…

… only to be faced with an unrealistic scenery.

What had once been a huge training room was now a dark, empty space with black walls. A viscous substance, black as ink, flooded the floor. Round crystal spheres were floating in mid-air, a bright bluish light shinning softly from their cores and lighting up the place with platinum streaks… soft rays illuminating the single being inside.

- What a pleasant surprise to see you here, Hibari Kyoya. - The figure turned, bright mismatched eyes watching him intently.

- What the hell is this place, Rokudo? - Was the icy reply of the Cloud Guardian, his gaze wandering around the dark place and finally returning to the blue haired male who smiled with amused indulgence.

- I'm just training. This is the place for that, isn't it? - One of Rokudo's thin fingers raised, a fine stream of that black substance gushed from his index and joined the flowing waters on the floor.

In an instant Hibari's ring activated, purple flames sprouting wildly. Silently, he set foot in the dim room, his expression calm and methodical, and his footsteps firm and unwavering.

Even when Hibari felt the waters soaking his shoes and the coldness of it running through his body, he never doubted that it was an illusion. A powerful, bewitching illusion.

He stopped in his track. Thick vines sprouted from black waters, surrounding his heels and slowly wrapping around his legs. Small lotus buds burst from the vines and blossomed, their fine pinkish petals bathed in black liquid, shining with an unearthly luster.

Hibari looked up, feeling the sinfully alluring eyes of his rival looking intensely at him. His eyes, glistening like gems in the soft platinum light thrown by the floating spheres, his body accentuate by the subtle glow, face ethereal, hair glowing in shades of inky blue.

And even when part of Hibari truly despised that man in front of him, he couldn't (nor wouldn't) deny the irrefutable fact that Rokudo Mukuro was… beautiful. Too beautiful to be real.

And for that sole reason, Hibari hated him more.

_How I want to break your mask and see what is really hidden beneath!_

Rokudo approached him slowly, stopping in front of him. He raised his hand, a pristine lotus bud emerging from his open palm, encased within his lithe fingers with an unusual gentleness.

- My illusions have become very good, don't you think? – he muttered, his gaze resting on the little flower before it settled back on Hibari, his single red eye glowing like embers. - Do you know what rests on my outstretched palm, Hibari Kyoya?

For a split second, a flash of recognition flooded Hibari's grey eyes.

"_Do you know what rests on your outstretched palm, Hibari Kyoya?"_

"_No. I don't know."_

- A stupid lotus flower. - Was the curt reply.

Like a flash, an unusual emotion close to sadness hinted in mismatched orbs. But it was so sudden that Hibari swore he imagined it. Rokudo's fine lips stretched in a wide smile, fingers closing tightly around the flower, crushing its delicate petals and letting them fall to be swallowed by inky waters.

- What are you doing here, Hibari Kyoya? – he asked while snapping his fingers, the vines constricting Hibari's legs disappearing.

- I came for you. Sawada called for a meeting with us Guardian's.- Hibari tensely replied, eyes never leaving the other's face.

- Oh! I wonder why is that...- An amused expression shone in Rokudo's eyes. – And I wonder how Sawada managed to convince you to come upstairs and look for me.-

- Stop the idiotic questions, Rokudo. Come with me.-

- Oh, you're very wrong if you think I would go with you. I don't want to participate in those insipid speeches Sawada Tsunayoshi will surely give us. I haven't the slightest intention of moving from this place, - the illusionist replied, tone filled with sweet poison.

Hibari had to use a great part of his self-control not to jump the illusionist, but he couldn't prevent the clenching of his fists.

- Rokudo…- he whispered, his tone a clear warning sign.

The man laughed softly, eyes shining with mirth. - Oh… I'm a bad, bad boy.- Lips curved dangerously.- Are you going _to punish me_, Kyoya?

The subtle sensuality Rokudo had placed on each word was enough to make Hibari's silver eyes gleam, an almost rapacious emotion crossing them. The illusionist's vivid smile widened.

One of Hibari's hand grabbed Rokudo's arm, fingers closing tightly around leather covered flesh.

- I haven't the slightest intention of partaking in your stupid games, Rokudo. Move. - he muttered, threateningly.

Mukuro laughed again, shaking his head.

- But I do want to play…- he whispered, disappearing from Hibari's grasp and reappearing few feet away.

Hibari closed his now empty hand, a tense fury showing in his eyes.

- You promised me a rematch, Kyoya. Come… and bite me to death.-

Hibari Kyoya wasn't going to think on the abnormal amount of suggestiveness behind those seemingly innocent words. Adrenaline was pumping. The flames of his ring throbbed with carnivorous anticipation.

_I will destroy you, Rokudo Mukuro._

Weapons weren't needed. Their fists and kicks were enough to deliver the piled rage built up in all those weeks they were away from each other.

They fought viciously, forgetting their attire and the prospect of the future meeting they needed to attend. They beat each other fiercely, bodies clashing painfully against each other, plunging themselves on the inky waters and fighting on the ground. Their bodies tangled in a mass of flesh, delivering crushing blows, kicks and bites.

During the fight, Hibari confirmed a theory about illusionists. Even though Rokudo Mukuro was a good fighter and a master of illusions, physical combat wasn't one of his abilities. Hibari knew the strange crimson eye Rokudo had enabled him some kind of supernatural strength when activated, but for some strange reason, the illusionist didn't use it.

While Rokudo's punches were strong enough to make him hurt, Hibari constantly managed to deliver his own powerful punches and dodge Rokudo's slow defenses.

After several minutes of struggle, Hibari delivered a forceful punch to Rokudo's face, throwing him harshly on the black waters. As a reflex, the illusionist stretched his leg with the intention of throwing a kick to Hibari's chest but he caught the lean foot with his hands. The trip Rokudo managed to deliver with his remaining leg caught Hibari off guard, pummeling him; water splashing everywhere.

_Why is this damned illusion still present?_

Rokudo tried to gather his feet. But Hibari, anticipating his movements, kneeled and locked his fingers forcefully around the illusionist's thin ankles, pulling hard and tripping Rokudo on the waters.

- You son of a ...- the illusionist exclaimed, the rubber cord holding his hair breaking; long, wet tresses falling over his face. He tried to kick again, but Hibari shook his captive ankles and pulled Rokudo towards him, establishing himself between his parted legs.

Rokudo stopped moving, giving Hibari the opportunity to hover over his prone body. His hands slowly rose from his ankles, fingers ghostly tracing the sides of his legs and thighs in order to settle firmly on his narrow hips.

- I got you, - Hibari whispered, voice raspy due to the effort, eyes shining victoriously.

Both were completely wet. Firmly set on the ground, Rokudo's body was encased by inky waters which delivered a subtle flowery smell, his hair waving gently in the dark liquid.

- You got me, Hibari Kyoya, – Rokudo muttered. His breath hitched and eyes went dark.

Hibari said no more, his gaze fixed on Rokudo's face, grey eyes wandering, looking intensely.

Soft angles sculpted a thin face. A stylized, little nose. Thin, plum colored lips. Perfectly almond shaped eyes, creamy colored scars adorning his lidded eyelids. Eyes glared defiantly at him, layers of different blues coloring his normal eye, bloody layers of color marring his remaining iris.

A pang seized Hibari's chest, dark flames of desire burning inside him.

It was then Hibari Kyoya finally realized that, beyond his desire to destroy Rokudo Mukuro… lay a hidden yearning of having him.

An intense and insane desire like Hibari never knew of before. Something that threatened his usual composure and his hatred towards the man pinned beneath him.

_I can't believe I…_

Trapped beneath him, Rokudo smiled… eyes shining with subtle knowledge.

- You look a little troubled, Hibari Kyoya. One would think that…- Slowly, one of Rokudo's legs began to stroke Hibari's thigh, sliding over the fabric of the Cloud's trousers. - ... you are about to kiss me.-

For the first time in years, Hibari lost his usual composure.

Without thinking he grabbed the illusionist's waist, drew him closer and took his mouth in a rough, harsh kiss. Out of instinct, Rokudo's arms latched onto Hibari's neck, mouth opening slightly and letting the Cloud's ravaging tongue dance against his own; both seeking dominance. They sank into the waters, Hibari's hands traveling over the illusionist's exposed flesh. Rokudo wrapped his legs around Hibari's waist, bringing them closer.

Their actions were desperate, their movements feral. Hibari's teeth latched onto Rokudo's lips, biting and sucking the blood that freely flowed, causing soft sighs to escape from the man beneath him and long nail to dig on the flesh of his neck as retaliation.

They kissed with the same ferocity as when they fought, undaunted by the pain they caused to the other. Always fighting for dominance. Their lips latched, united and expressed all the hate, desire, passion, and anger they felt towards the other. Their kiss, rather than an expression of mutual desire, became an expression of dominance, of ownership and animal yearning.

Because only a carnivore was able to satisfy another carnivore.

Although they managed to tear apart seconds later, their lips remained gently suspended on each other; agitated breaths mingling. Their lips glowed with specks of crimson from the blood of the other.

Hibari Kyoya knew he had committed something unforgivable, he also knew with surprising certainty that he didn't regret it at all.

He wanted Rokudo. As absurd and incomprehensible as it may seem. He wanted Rokudo Mukuro as badly as he needed to defeat and tear him apart.

Below him, Rokudo flashed him a mischievous smirk, lips coming to mere millimeters of touching again, his mouth gently opening…

- You've convinced me, Kyoya. -

A curtain of mist enveloped Rokudo, making him disappear and Hibari to momentarily lose balance, his hand holding onto the ground to prevent his fall.

Hibari slowly raised, grey eyes shining with rage. Around him, the illusionary black chamber and the inky waters disappeared, the artificial light coming from the bulbs perched on the ceiling momentarily injuring his eyes.

Rokudo's laugh echoed on the small room, his clean and pristine looking body leaning in the doorway of the now open door while his eyes glistened sensually.

They looked at each other for a moment; Hibari's lips curved in a cold little smirk.

- We need to talk, sneaky bastard.-

As an answer, the illusionist waved his hand casually.

- We have all the time in the world, my dear Kyoya. For now…- An almost innocent expression came over Rokudo's beautiful alabaster features. - Didn't we have a meeting to attend?

*********1869*********

- I greatly appreciate your presence here, my dear Guardians, - Sawada Tsunayoshi exclaimed, face serious but amber eyes filled with visible relief upon seeing everyone gathered.

His eyes stayed for milliseconds on both the Mist and the Cloud Guardians.

_I'm so relieved to see them here._

The Guardians were gathered in one of the spacious rooms assigned for special meetings. They were sitting around a rectangular wooden table and looking at their leader who, located at the main seat, was tensely staring back at them. A dark expression on his usually happy face.

Most of the Guardians present were concerned, tense, and expectant about the reason of the reunion. Only two men were undeterred by it: one carrying a calm demeanor, his gloved fingers showing three elegant rings tapping the wooden surface. The other watching the first with dark and harsh eyes, a fearsome aura pouring from every pore of his pale skin.

The other Guardians didn't pay much attention to them.

After all, the Cloud Guardian's demeanor was something everyone knew of.

And Rokudo Mukuro was the new Mist Guardian and the bearer of two of the three Hell Rings, so his presence was by now something everyone accepted, albeit with some reserves.

After all, there were mixed reactions upon the announcement of Mukuro's new position. Most of the Vongola task force and Guardians accepted the change, some with honest joy, some with suspicion, and others with fear. As expected, there were those who blatantly opposed, but without the power to do something about the matter, merely crossed their arms and reluctantly accepted.

Even when there were still people who were wary and suspicious by Mukuro's sheer presence, he managed to confirm, through that month as a Guardian, not only was he worth the title given to him, but he also exceeded everyone's expectations by demonstrating that his power was something far greater than everyone first assumed it was.

Sawada Tsunayoshi cleared his throat, his expression becoming grimmer as the seconds went by.

- As most of you know, I called for an emergency meeting related to the shocking events reported on the news this morning. For those who have and also for those who haven't seen them, I prepared an official and detailed report.-

A young woman entered the room, carrying a stack of black envelopes. She gave one to each Guardian and, once she finished, bowed slightly and left.

The Guardians wasted several minutes browsing around the pictures and detailed contents; disgusted, grim and shocked expressions surfacing once again on their faces.

Hibari looked through the contents; eyes wandering on the grotesque images of mangled bodies and pools of blood, of a heart lying near the dismembered corpse of a man whose face he vaguely recognized.

- I still can't believe it. Can't believe that someone would go after the Mendelier family, - Yamamoto slowly muttered, eyes filled with a mixture of disgust and pity.

The renowned Mendelier family, led by Johannes Mendelier was a Japanese _famiglia _know for its many legal and illegal business scattered throughout the nation. A moderately powerful family who was among those protected by the Vongola.

A family that, by all means, was untouchable.

_Well ... Not anymore._

Hibari discarded the first images and data, focusing on the last picture were a photograph of a white wall appeared. The wall was painted, bloody trails forming a well-known emblem.

The emblem of the Bertesco _famiglia. _

- For fuck's sake, I still can't… Are they out of their fucking minds? - Gokudera exclaimed, exasperated.

The Bertesco _famiglia_ was one of those few families who were still against the Vongola. Even though Sawada Tsunayoshi constantly offered them an alliance, their leader Marco Bertesco flatly refused. They hated the Vongola and the power they had over the entire Mafia.

Marco Bertesco and his family were known primarily for their illegal activities in the management of drugs, weapons and prostitution throughout Japan. On several occasions, the Vongola frustrated their businesses and therefore stirred even more hatred on the Bertesco's side.

Nevertheless, the Bertesco was a relatively weak _famiglia_. They had weapons and a large number of members, but their task force was nothing compared to the Vongola.

A person with a sane mind would find it logical to think that an attack on their part would be something equal to signing their own deaths.

Apparently, the Bertesco weren't that intelligent… or sane.

- Do the Bertesco's know about the alliance Mendelier had with us? Maybe they didn't… - Yamamoto weakly supplied.

- Impossible, - Hibari intervened, tone sharp.- I personally took care of letting every Mafia on the Continent know about our protected allies and the consequences of attacking them.-

- If so, then everything is as clear as water, Sawada Tsunayoshi. From what I have read here, the Vongola previously frustrated many of Bertesco's illegal negotiations, which resulted in enormous economical losses for them…- Mukuro stated, leaving the file on the table, his expression calm and unperturbed.

- What are you suggesting is that the Bertesco _famiglia _slaughtered the Mendeliers in order to provoke us, Mukuro-san? - Ryohei asked, face aghast.

- As simple as that, yes, - Mukuro conceded, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Reluctantly, every member on the table agreed with what the illusionist said. Tsuna shook his head, face downcast.

- This is regrettable. Something too horrid to put into words. - Tsuna's face hardened, amber eyes gleaming with anger. - The evidence is irrefutable. And, as you all perfectly know, an act as horrid and unjust as this towards an allied _famiglia_ is something that shouldn't, and won't go unpunished. –

Besides Tsuna, both Gokudera and Ryohei nodded gravely. Lambo, who had been silent throughout the entire meeting, cowered with a terrified expression on his face.

Tsunayoshi regarded every present Guardian, his face wearing an almost scary look.

- The horrible slaughter committed against the Mendeliers won't go unpunished. Get ready, my dear Guardians, for we are going tomorrow to Bertesco's Headquarters in order to do justice.-

- Hai!- shouted the majority of the present men.

Hibari's hard expression didn't change. Between the noise and the avalanche of orders given by Sawada for tomorrow's raid, his grey eyes diverted to where Rokudo was, looking at his unusually calm façade…

A façade that broke just for few seconds, revealing a dark gleam of evil satisfaction crossing the depths of his mismatched eyes.

Sinful eyes who locked gazes with him, amidst the stir of people and the echoes of voices questioning and receiving orders.

- We will be together on this one, Hibari Kyoya, - Rokudo muttered.

A blink. And the expression was gone, replaced by a coy shine.

- It will surely be an entertaining experience, - Hibari finished, grey eyes looking intently at the illusionist's face.

- Hibari-san! Mukuro! - Tsuna suddenly exclaimed, his expression turning soft. - I will be waiting for both of you tomorrow. – Saying this, the caramel haired man returned to his previous discussion with the Guardians around him.

- Hai, hai, – Rokudo jokingly muttered, rising from his seat and walking towards the exit.

Wasting no time, Hibari rose and followed him. He was able to catch up to him down the large corridor, grabbing his arm from behind and turning him.

- We need to talk. - Was his curt explanation.

Hibari received as a response a sudden attack by Rokudo's trident. Smiling dangerously, he dodged, one of his tonfas clashing against the metal of the illusionist weapon, his grip against Rokudo's arm getting stronger.

The illusionist laughed slightly. - I don't think this is the right time, nor the right place to talk, Kyoya.-

Hibari cut the distance between them, grey eyes glowing.

- You're going to come with me, now, - he replied, tone scathing.

The sound of footsteps made them widen distance from each other. Reluctantly, Hibari released his grip on Rokudo's arm seconds before the unmistakable figure of Dino Cavallone made his unexpected appearance.

- Kyoya! – Dino happily exclaimed upon recognizing him. His apparent contentment faded slightly when confronted with the figure of the Mist Guardian, standing close.

Cavallone's eyes met with Rokudo's; the first showing a great deal of displeasure on his clear orbs, the latter unperturbed.

- Rokudo Mukuro,- Dino said, acknowledging the illusionist with a curt nod.

- Dino Cavallone, – Rokudo replied, an unnerving smirk marking thin lips.

- Am I interrupting something? - Dino asked, turning his gaze towards Hibari who silently watched the exchange.

- Of course not, Cavallone. We were just… fixing some of our differences, - Rokudo commented, his eyes meeting briefly with Hibari's orbs.

His stormy eyes gleamed with a silent warning: _Don't you dare go, Rokudo._

But Rokudo Mukuro was known for blatantly ignoring the warnings people threw at him. Smiling broadly and eyes gleaming with amusement, he turned around.

- See you tomorrow, Kyoya, - Rokudo whispered. Without waiting for any reaction, a fine curtain of mist wrapped him and he disappeared from sight.

Leaving a startled Dino Cavallone and an enraged Hibari whose eyes shone with the promise of retaliation.

*********1869**********

- It was a surprise to see you with Rokudo Mukuro.-

The apparently casual comment escaped from Dino's lips hours later once they were out of the riot of the Vongola HQ and comfortably seated on the couch of his home. Dino was currently sipping a drink while Hibari drank a cup of steaming coffee.

- Why do you say that? - the Cloud Guardian replied, his expression far from interested.

Dino shrugged. – Don't know. I was told that neither you nor he could stand the presence of the other. I once hear Tsuna-nii say, "Whenever they meet, they end up trying to kill each other." -

Hibari didn't answered, his expression denoting his deep state of distraction. He had been like that all the way back from the Vongola HQ. Dino rarely saw him that way, so deep in thought…

- Beyond our differences, we are Guardians. We need to communicate civilly from time to time, - Hibari finally answered.

- You seemed very entertained when talking to him…-

Grey eyes blinked, resting his gaze on his "lover's" grim face.

- You sound as if you were jealous of Rokudo. - Hibari remarked.

- Do I have to? - Dino pointedly asked.

Hibari shrugged, unperturbed.

He didn't want to elaborate on those types of questions. Whenever such conversations started, they ended in a futile discussion in which Dino tried to make him understand the need for something beyond the sordid and impersonal relationship they maintained and where Hibari ended up making it painfully clear his little interest in something more serious.

- There is something about that man I don't like, Kyoya,- Dino tensely said.

- Rokudo is not there to please you, Cavallone. Sawada chose him and apparently trusts him enough. I don't think there's anything you can do about that.-

- I'm not talking about that. It's just… I'm worried about you, Kyoya.-

- Your concern is irrelevant, Cavallone. -

Dino got up from his seat and walked towards Hibari, lowering to his knees on the floor besides him, his hands resting on Hibari's lap. Dino's honest and bright clear eyes stared at him, concern and anger mingling in their depths.

- I have a bad feeling, Kyoya. I know you're going tomorrow to a mission with Tsuna-nii and the other Guardians and I…- Dino closed the distance between them, body stretching over in order to reach Hibari's face. - Please, be careful. -

Without another word, Dino took Hibari's face between his hands and kissed him.

Hibari tried to return the affectionate gesture, but he found that he couldn't.

When he closed his eyes, when he invaded the mouth that softly kissed him and tasted the nectar of the mouth he knew so well, he couldn't feel anything.

_His lips… they're so different._

Against his common sense, he found himself thinking about forbidden riddance he had with Rokudo in the illusory chamber. His senses were overtaken by memories of the subtle scent of his firm and smooth skin and the tantalizing and exotic taste of his mouth.

Unconsciously, Hibari raised one of his hands and wrapped his fingers around Dino's blonde tresses, their kiss becoming fiercer.

It wasn't the same. Even though Hibari could perceive the emotion Dino tried to put into the kiss and attempts for equaling his own harshness and violence, there wasn't that evil yearning… that desire to hurt, destroy and consume Hibari had felt when he kissed and was kissed by Rokudo.

That abnormal and exciting emotion that coursed through his veins. The sensation of kissing and dominating Death itself… it wasn't present with Dino's kisses.

Dino's lips were too normal. Dino's kisses were too soft, too caring, and too common.

_How low I had fallen… Yearning for my enemy's lips._

Furious with himself, he tightly clutched Dino's hair and bit his lower lip.

He needed to feel it again; that delicious and dangerous feeling. He wanted to feel … _those lips again._

- What the hell are you doing? - Dino suddenly yelped, escaping from Hibari's painful grip and cleaning the blood that flowed from the bite on his lip.

Without saying a word, Hibari rose. His body was tense, his face dark.

Slowly, Dino began to rise from the floor; face confused and alert.

- What the hell is happening to you, Kyoya?-

Hibari turned his back to the blond haired male.

- I have to go. We'll talk later, Cavallone. - Hibari took his keys, wallet and briefcase from the couch and walked towards the exit, Dino following closely behind.

Just when his hand closed around the doorknob, Dino's dry voice stopped him.

- Whom were you thinking about, Kyoya?-

It was a simple question, yet it was muttered with an intense amount of rage.

- I don't know what you mean, Cavallone, – Hibari whispered, turning his face to look at those clear orbs full of betrayal and anger.

- Don't you dare think I'm stupid, Kyoya. In all the years we were together, you never kissed me the way you just did moments ago. Your eyes never looked at me the way you did moments ago… Just who were you thinking when you kissed me?

For few seconds some semblance of surprise crossed Hibari's grey eyes.

- Perhaps you were thinking about _him? - _Dino continued his face darker, his tone angrier. - Your eyes were filled with so much passion, with so much rage… Did you see _him_ when you kissed me?-

Not a single gesture adorned Hibari's stoic façade.

Anger suddenly threatened to spill over Dino's usually placid facial features, his eyes flashing with murderous intent.

- I see… I'm no longer enough, am I, Kyoya?-

- I'm going. When you decide to calm down and stop saying nonsense I will come back and we will talk, - Hibari muttered, opening the apartment door in order to leave.

- I'm not your personal boy-toy, Kyoya. If you want something like that, get the fuck out and go look for that damned Rokudo Mukuro. I have no doubts he will gladly spread his legs for your pleasure.-

The only reply was the sound of the doors closing violently, its harsh echo resounding in Dino's apartment.

*********1869***********

Grotesque pictures of mangled, bloodied bodies were scattered on the bed. A thin blue rubber band rested on top of one of the pictures.

Standing by the windowsill, his figure was bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. A contemplative expression adorning his pale face. One of his hands raised, fingers deftly moving; thin rows of purplish mist flowing from the tips of his bare fingers and turning into words he created.

When he finished, he looked intently at the seven names written. With his hand, he violently swapped six of them, leaving only one floating before his eyes.

_Kyoya Hibari._

Unconsciously, his remaining hand went to his mouth, fingers lightly touching his parted lips.

He replayed the events that unfolded that morning in the training room. The feeling of Kyoya's hands on his skin, the electrifying chain of dark and intense emotions that took over his senses when he felt his those lips clashing against his own, the desire that stirred low and primal… covering his entire body and heating him like and endless, all consuming fire.

Sensations his mortal body was never allowed to feel.

_I have to kill him. I have to..._

Hibari Kyoya was a dangerous threat to his plans. He was the only one who could destroy him if everything was to be discovered…

_But…_

Kyoya desired him. Of that, Mukuro was sure.

He felt it the moment their lips connected. He felt it in the desperate way Kyoya touched and kissed him; in the way those eyes of metal and storm looked at him.

It had been years since the last time Mukuro had something resembling to physical contact with another human being. He had spent too much of his life locked up either as a laboratory specimen or as a prisoner. Although he constantly used foreign bodies in order to escape from his reality and do what he pleased, the feelings and physical enjoyment felt through them wasn't real.

Mukuro had long ago forgotten what it felt to have the adrenaline and euphoria coursing through his veins. He had forgotten the great deal of perceptions and responses a simple touch was able to deliver, what pain, desire and pleasure felt like…

But that morning, Hibari Kyoya unconsciously rekindled his emotions, and lit the fire he thought he didn't possess…

… And left him with an empty feeling and a dark yearning for more.

Hibari Kyoya desired him; his deep grey eyes and the passionate caresses of his lips told him without words. And though Mukuro felt a stifle of anger course through him at the thought, he also desired Kyoya.

With an intensity equal or greater than his desire to kill him.

And more than desire him, Mukuro longed for his beating heart encased on his palm. He wanted to become Kyoya's drug, trap him in an invisible web so when the time to kill the Vongola and destroy the Mafia arrived, Kyoya wasn't an obstacle on his way to victory.

Mukuro wanted, no, _needed _Kyoya's heart beating for him… only for him.

It was a dangerous task. It was something almost laughable. Because really, Hibari Kyoya was his mortal enemy and Mukuro just needed to kill him.

_I only need to kill him. I don't need to do all these complicated things. Just… kill him the same way I killed that Mafia family..._

_Then… why am I doubting? Why when I think about killing Kyoya, all seems more complicated?_

Mukuro needed to finish Kyoya off…

Even if it was true that the Guardian was the only one capable of stirring feelings way beyond hatred or indifference on his cold heart.

Even if it was true that Mukuro felt an enormous amount of respect for him and an egotistical desire to have him.

And even when a deep part of his soul admitted that, perhaps if they had known each other in another life, or in circumstances where he had been someone less tainted by the hatred and darkness fragmenting his humanity, maybe… just maybe they would have been able to…

_Your thoughts are becoming too dangerous to handle, Mukuro._

_I have to destroy him, before…_

Mukuro couldn't let anything or anyone stand in his way towards winning the game.

Therefore, in order to be able to catch Hibari Kyoya… Mukuro needed to remove another obstacle.

A bothersome obstacle whose name was Dino Cavallone.

Mukuro knew about the apparent "relationship" between Kyoya and the leader of the Cavallone famiglia. He had heard numerous rumors and proved those rumors by the words of none other than his fellow Vongola teammates.

Upon knowing that, Mukuro came to understand Cavallone's rude manners towards him and his constant visits to the Vongola HQ in hopes of catching the elusive Cloud Guardian; the way both communicated when together, the subtle touches Cavallone delivered towards Hibari, the warm smiles and gleaming clear eyes.

Contrary to his initial expectations, knowing about the relationship between Kyoya and Cavallone stirred a deal of disturbing emotions within Mukuro. Surprise was the first one, accompanied by a string of other more intense and twisted feelings.

Something that could be classified as hatred and bordered on envy and jealousy stirred within Mukuro's gut. Imagining Kyoya, his Kyoya with someone, especially someone as entrenched in the Mafia world as Dino Cavallone was, made Mukuro's blood boil with pure and unadulterated rage.

Firstly, Mukuro hated Dino Cavallone simply because he was one of the most influential Mafia leaders worldwide.

But now, Mukuro hated Dino Cavallone not for being a Mafiosi, but for being the one with whom Hibari Kyoya shared his bed.

And because of that hatred, Mukuro listed Cavallone as one of the people he needed to kill first.

_Oh! But what a wonderful death I have reserved for him. I would make him regret even laying his eyes on Kyoya Hibari._

- I will rip your heart from your chest, Cavallone, - Mukuro whispered, eyes gleaming with cruel madness, his beautiful face showing a monstrous evilness. - I will rip it out and then choke you to death with it.

Mukuro knew his revenge would make him lose many things, but for him ... the final reward was his greatest motivation.

He would do anything to see the Mafia sinking in its own blood.

_Anything to have the blood of those miserable bastards running through my fingers. Their cries ringing like music in my ears, the smell of their blood, sweat and tears; to taste the desperation of their pitiful existences… until they are no more than scattered flesh and blood._

Mukuro had made the most important decision of his life. He was going to carry on with his only goal. Without regrets or feelings, because he had long ago lost his mind. He had long ago forgotten what it felt to be human.

But he never, ever would forget what if felt to be free. For that simple feeling he fought.

And perhaps, once he killed them all… he would get back the freedom life had cruelly snatched from his hands.

_I will be free. And life will grant me peace._

_That's the only thing I need…_

He began to surround the floating name of the Cloud Guardian in a circle of mist. A small, almost warm smile surfaced on his lips without him thinking.

Everything would end just as he had planned. He would have everything he had wanted.

_And then… what?_

The gentle smile slowly disappeared, confusion clouding his eyes for a moment.

- And then ... – Mukuro whispered, - What shall I do next?

_Once everything is over… what would I do next?_

For the first time, he had no answer. He never gave much thought to the future beyond his revenge…

And now the possibility of life beyond revenge was on him. And Mukuro didn't know what to think about it.

After all, his mind was only focused on destroying, eliminating, and ending.

- Perhaps it would be better… to end this poorly constructed world, - Mukuro said to himself, eyes filled with dementia.

Looking at Hibari's name, an expression of sadness overcame his features, grotesquely contrasting with the inhuman shine present in his eyes.

_It would be nice to have you by my side… and show you how I destroy this accursed world._

_Yes… It would be so beautiful, so delightful…_

He laughed. Kyoya's name began to turn red, fine rivers of illusory blood covering each ethereal letter.

- Don't you think it would be beautiful, my dear Kyoya? - he whispered, encasing the bloodied name within his palms. - I will lay upon you the corpses of every human being living in this wretched world. I will make you a castle with their bones, mantles with their flesh, and rivers with their blood…

_And it would be all beautifully done for you, my skylark. I will make sure of it._


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Tales of a bird who fell in love with a corpse.

**Couples:** HibarixMukuro (1869), HibarixDino (18D)

**Warnings:** Explicit boy/boy content, gore, crude language, character suffering, angst.

**Author's notes:** First of all I want to express my deepest apologies for being late. Inspiration came slowly and unsteadily, and then, both my Beta Reader and I were loaded with finals and celebrations we couldn´t say no to. All in all, I have worked very hard on this little chapter, making it long enough for it to be like a proper apology to all my dearest readers. I thank my Beta Reader, Death-Scimitar, whose valuable help made this chapter possible in a beautiful and organized way. Thank you so much, dear. Please readers, thank her too. I thank everyone for all their comments and I would try to answer to them as soon as you so much for all the beautiful comments, positive feedback and suggestions you all gave to my babe. Please, continue to do so, comments are my babe´s food and he needs to be properly nourished in order to grow.

Note: Large doses of gore, blood, mental instability and breakdowns. Also, character suffering and something more. Please, if you´re susceptible to these, don´t read.

With nothing else to say, please, enjoy the chapter and stay tuned for more

~000~

I know how to hurt, I know how to heal  
>I know what to show, and what to conceal<br>I know when to talk, and I know when to touch  
>No one ever died from wanting too much<p>

The world is not enough  
>But it is such a perfect place to start, my love<br>And if you're strong enough  
>Together we can take the world apart, my love<p>

~Garbage: The World is not Enough~

~000~

**Chapter 5: Feel**

A bright moon lit up the cold and dreary night. From his window, he watched outside. A glass full of liquor tinkered between his fingers, pieces of ice clinking with every nervous movement.

Marco Bertesco looked at the sky, his mind dazed. It was too polluted with dread, anticipation and fear to be able to admire the scenery before him. The events of that fateful day still echoed in his memory and the nervousness of knowing what awaited him the next morning ate at his gut.

He still remembered the shock he had experienced that morning when he was interrupted during his morning activities by one of his men, reporting the incident. Minutes later, sitting in front of the television with a dozen men behind him, he had seen the images of the slaughter committed against Mendelier. Horror filled his mind at the sight, among that carnage of fallen bodies and bloodied parts, of his family emblem, skillfully painted with the bloodied remnants of one of those poor wretches who lay dead.

From that moment on, everything went to hell. Bertesco called every available man under his command. He took all the weapons and ammunition he had, organized his most faithful and powerful Mafiosi, and placed a barricade of cameras along every corner, every crevice and space of his mansion.

Marco Bertesco perfectly understood the implications that abruptly fell on him and his family because of the incident with the Mendeliers. Even when he couldn't deny the obscure pleasure that filled him at the sight of one of his most detested enemies lives ending that horrible way, the knowledge wasn't enough to cause the sufficient amount of happiness or bravery needed to confront the fact that some motherfucker had implicated him and his family for something he wasn't even aware had happened.

As a consequence, sooner or later, the Vongola _famiglia _would end up coming solely to kill him.

Marco Bertesco knew by heart the laws established by the Vongola _famiglia._ One of their men, a powerful, arrogant man, had taken charge of letting every family around the country understand the implications of breaking the rules established or harming a family under Vongola's permanent care; all in the most effective and cruel way possible.

And now the Mendeliers were dead. The Mendeliers, one of the families who for years had been under the protective mantle of the Vongola. And to worsen things, all the suspicion fell solely on them, the Bertesco.

Marco Bertesco never felt as afraid as he felt at that moment. He was so afraid, it was impossible for him to think beyond the crazy and unorganized orders he spouted to his men just to have something akin to control over his frenzied state of mind. Yes, he had under his command thousands of capable men, huge amounts of weapons, ammo and vehicles. But it wasn't enough against the incredible and inhuman strength of Sawada Tsunayoshi and his monstrous Guardians.

That was why he was at that precise moment in his office, packing everything within reach in order to flee from the godforsaken place. Flee somewhere, anywhere far away with his fortune. Leaving behind his whores, his bastard children and his men to fight. He could always reconstruct a new empire in another place; have better men, better women and more children. He had a fortune and little things like family and loyalty were of no worth. What he needed was to come out of this alive, with his fortune intact and safe in a place where he could be able to escape the powerful clutches of the Vongola.

He was almost ready and knew he couldn't waste any more time. But he couldn't help experiencing a sane amount of rage. He was going to lose a lot of money, men, contacts and fame that has cost him a lot to construct. All because someone had the audacity to incriminate him.

Marco Bertesco vowed, if he was able to get out of this alive, he would be devoted to look for the bastard or bastards who had framed him and he would kill them in the most imaginative and cruelest way possible.

But it wasn't time to think about it, not when the prospect of imminent danger was near. He had everything ready; in a few hours his private jet would pick him up and would lead him to safety. He just needed to wait. Wait, even when anxiety consumed him. Wait and be calm over some scotch.

The Vongola would surely come after him tomorrow. But Bertesco found relief in knowing when it would happened, he would be miles away, drinking and laughing at them.

_I need to calm down. Soon I will be far away… with some pretty girl in my lap and drinking good wine._

He took a long sip of his drink, amber liquid leaking through the sides of his mouth. With trembling fingers, he put the glass on the table and slumped in a soft chair, absently stroking the shiny gun that rested on the wooden surface of the desk in front of him. Beady eyes suspiciously scanned every corner of the darkened room. Sighing heavily, he leaned back further in his chair and closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. Soon one of his men would call to tell him the jet was ready and he could leave.

He was so engrossed; hoping for an early flight that he wasn't aware of the subtle changes that gradually began to appear inside his office.

- It's hot in here ... - Bertesco whispered to himself, taking off his jacket and leaving the drink on the desk. He opened the huge window behind him, letting the cool breeze filter inside.

The sound of stilettos tapping softly tuned him out of his nervous thoughts. The office door opened slowly and Bertesco turned rapidly towards the unannounced visitor, hand outstretched toward his gun.

- Who the hell do you think...? - Bertesco's insults died in his throat the moment his eyes fell on the divinity that slowly stepped into his office. There was no other way to describe the gorgeous woman, with her perfect curves, wavy black hair and bright blue eyes, dressed in an elegant, tight crimson dress and wearing a coy smile on perfectly painted red lips. Grinning lewdly, Bertesco came forward several steps, admiring with something akin to devotion for the woman in front of him. Gun completely forgotten.

- Who are you, beautiful? Where did you come from? – he muttered sweetly, bright eyes scanning every patch of uncovered skin available.

The woman didn't talk, her gorgeous eyes shining seductively, luscious body moving gracefully towards him, hips swaying dangerously, and long black tresses caressing the contours of her chiseled face.

- I'm deeply sorry for interrupting you, Mr. Bertesco…- she sweetly murmured, voice soft and musical, enchanting the poor man into obliviousness.

- You don't have to be sorry for anything, my dear. Where did you come from? Are you here to entertain me?- he whispered, extending an arm towards the woman.

Suddenly, the light in the office disappeared, plunging everything in darkness except for the soft silver light the moon gave. Bertesco's eyes expanded, a shiver running down his neck at the sudden change, his hand taking hold of the soft, warm hand of the woman.

The precious woman who seemed to glow in the dim light of the moon.

- I don't know what's happening, but you don't need to worry about it, sweetheart. My men will fix this as soon as possible…-

The young woman let out a soft chuckle, moving a step closer to Bertesco, who remained frozen in frantic ecstasy. Gradually, she approached, looming over him, reeling him back towards the nearest wall. Tempted beyond reason, Bertesco extended one of his sweaty, greasy hands, crazy to touch the silken skin of her fair face.

He stopped in midmotion, shocked by the intense display of hatred and revulsion that shone brightly in those impressive blue eyes; as intense as the feeling of a whip straight to the face.

And that smile. That smile painted crimson, which contorted those perfect features in something too macabre to be considered human.

- Wh... Who the hell are you? – he stuttered, releasing the warm hand with a terrified shriek. Her hand remained delicately suspended in the air.

- You're so rude, Bertesco-san. It is impolite to talk like that to a lady, - the woman whispered, her voice soft and poisonous. – Thou shameless man… escaping like an elusive cockroach, aren't you?-

A horrified scream burst from the lips of the Mafiosi, erasing all traces of excitement from his system; his body trembling against the wall. Bertesco tried to defend himself; to raise his hands to cover his face or summon enough strength to hit the woman, but his body was paralyzed, senses too horrified to do more than groan.

Even though it was visible that she was a woman and therefore could not be physically stronger than him ... there was something, something too horrible about her. Something that bordered almost on hellish.

A beautiful smile broadened on that divine and hellish face, eyes sparkling with promises of pain. Voice sang tunes of fire and agony, of lethal whispers…

- Fear, little rat ... -

The delicate hand hung over Bertesco's mouth, moving horizontally and sealing his lips. No sound escaped, no cry or scream… even when he opened and closed his mouth, trying to drop a word, his eyes bulged out in fear.

And the woman kept smiling as she took him by the neck.

- ... Because hell will soon eat your flesh.-

Carrying a force beyond the potential for such delicate features, she lifted Bertesco and threw him into the window. A terrified and mute scream was the only thing Bertesco was able to utter before his body crossed the window, out of sight.

The sound of flesh and bones hitting asphalt sickeningly resounded seconds later.

The beautiful smile remained on red lips, the woman fading from the room just before a contingent of men violently threw down the door, alerted by the noise outside.

The lights began to illuminate all the floors of the imposing headquarters, through the windows were silhouettes of dozens of men running around and the shattered figure of Marco Bertesco laying in a pool of blood, face wearing an expression of eternal terror and body angled in an horrendous way.

The woman appeared again, watching with bored interest the corpse mere meters away; a joyful expression still dancing in her bright eyes.

- This night needs… a little more light, - she playfully mused, gently biting her lip.

A snap of her fingers. Two snaps. Three snaps.

A soft laugh. A light breeze and a maniacal gleam in bright blue eyes.

Three devastating explosions resounded in the calmness of the night, coming from inside the headquarters; blowing off metal, glass and cement in torrents of fire. Countless bodies expelled, flying in the night and colliding grotesquely on the pavement; shrieks, screams and bodies covered in fire running everywhere.

Hellish flames devoured the once proud mansion, coloring the night sky with tinges of red.

All the while, the only spectator turned and disappeared, the sound of her stilettos overshadowed by the soft curtain of mist that enveloped her.

~0000~

Sawada Tsunayoshi could say, without fear of sounding arrogant, that he was a patient man. It was a feature he developed because of constant training with his tutor, Reborn, and as a consequence of him being the leader of an organization whose members were, in short, the most eccentric, mentally unstable and bizarre entities to ever having the pleasure of meeting.

Beings that, with all their quirks and faults, were people who had earned his respect and care, who he admired and trusted with every ounce of his heart.

Tsuna wasn't a stranger of wars. Nor did he shy away from direct combat, bloodshed or revenge against people who attacked him or someone he cared about. Even when his heart clenched in sorrow, even when he tried by all means possible to appeal first to words, then to negotiations and perhaps even threats in order to cease combat and protect his men, Tsuna acknowledged the fact that sometimes, there were times when violent approaches were necessary.

Moments like this, in which a family who was under his protective wing, a family as considerate and clean (even in the Mafia standards) as the Mendeliers, were slaughtered without any valid reason and in an inhuman way, unfit of even the most savage of men. In cases like this one, there weren't negotiations, words or peace treaties valid.

Vengeance was the only conclusion, the only way to settle the problem.

Sawada Tsunayoshi wasn't alien to wars, neither were his Guardians.

But knowing didn't mean liking.

Yesterday he had called Reborn. He had discussed the matter, had sent the pictures and reports. It had been years since the last time Tsuna had asked any advice from his beloved tutor. This time he needed it. He wanted to make sure he was doing the right thing.

_"No turning back on this, dame-Tsuna. You'll go tomorrow to the mansion and you're gonna' fire a bullet through that bastard's face. You save yourself from paperwork, having to answer to other frightened families and, as a bonus, you get rid of a hotbed of good-for-nothing motherfuckers whose sole purpose in life was to stain our noble reputation." _

Tsuna had laughed, even as his tutor spouted those cruel words, he had laughed. Because that little speech, with its blasphemies and crude words, couldn't be truer.

He had taken the opportunity of the call to inform Reborn about Mukuro's freeing and to inform him about his decision to partake him as a member of the Vongola Guardians. Reborn, as always, knew everything even before Tsuna was able to inform him. There wasn't anything in the world that escaped the baby's keen eye.

To Tsuna's surprise, the Arcobaleno hadn't shown any indication of hostility or doubt towards the knowledge. Even better, he had welcomed the fact and praised Tsuna of making such an important and accurate decision.

_"Even though I hate to admit it, Rokudo Mukuro is undoubtedly the best illusionist in the whole Mafia. It is a great advantage that you have him under your command, owing you his liberty. It is a better thing to have him under surveillance than letting him frolic wherever he pleases, causing havoc."_

_"I don't think he ..."_

_"Just be careful, dame-Tsuna."_ Reborn had suddenly replied, his voice even and serious. _"Ten years in Vindice makes dents in the sanest minds and both you and I know that Rokudo Mukuro was an unstable being even before being locked up. You will never know what lies beneath a mind as complicated and twisted as his."_

_"But someone has to trust in him. And I trust him. I really hope things will be different this time, Reborn."_

_"You may be right. But that confidence of yours may also end up biting you in the ass¨_ There had been a tense pause, and then, in a hushed tone, _"If you need me, you know where I am. I can drop by at any moment of any time. Don't hesitate to call if something gets out of control. "_

_"Thanks, Reborn-san."_

With those words, Reborn had managed to convince Tsuna the only plausible way to amend the current predicament was to drop by and erase Bertesco's famiglia from existence. And at the same, the Arcobaleno had undoubtedly replenished the subtle spark of worry and doubt that had invaded Tsuna's mind since Mukuro's arrival.

Because Tsuna wasn't blind, nor naive. He was able to see, every time his eyes rested on Mukuro, the illusion of a perfect and beautiful mask that hid the hurt and horror suffered for God knows how long. He could clearly see, in those bright mismatched eyes, the roots and deep marks of an impressive madness, of buried hatred and controlled anger.

And sometimes, when he happened to walk in on Mukuro sitting alone, watching the fireplace in the middle of the night or standing silently beside a windowsill watching the sunset, away from light and company; Tsuna was able to visualize, like a subtle spark, a deep and desperate kind of sadness, a longing… like a desire to regain something lost long ago. An emotion so harsh and so unexplainable, that it caused a constriction in Tsuna's chest.

For those uncommon but emotionally scarring moments, Tsuna still maintained high hopes for Mukuro. He was still a human being, someone capable of feeling sadness and anger. Someone who still was capable of smiling, even when such gestures were almost nonexistent and sometimes painful. Those little things reminded Tsuna that Mukuro, even with his monstrous power and his horrible past, was someone who could be saved.

There were people who cared about Mukuro. Besides Tsuna, there were others. Chrome, M.M., Ken, Chikusa, and a certain someone who silently, subtly, demonstrated a hidden, twisted kind of care.

A certain someone who had once agreed, without stipend or obligation, to get Mukuro out of his hell. That same someone who, without complaint, had cradled Mukuro's dead weight in his arms, with a delicacy uncommon in his usually violent and deadly maneuvers. Not a single bit of hatred, shame or disgust on his face. Someone who, day after day over weeks had punctually made his stop in front of Mukuro's clinic room, silently watching his progress to leave with a satisfied expression at even the slightest change.

Someone who's deadly eyes had shone euphorically when seeing Mukuro standing. When fighting, when talking…

Insignificant actions, unable to be perceived by those who weren't intuitive enough. Actions hidden behind layers of animosity and carefully constructed anger. Actions that, for Tsuna's keen eye, were the significant mannerisms of someone who truly cared, even in a strange, twisted kind of way.

Tsuna knew sooner or later, with effort and with the help of those people that directly and indirectly cared for Mukuro, everything would end up being right.

It was only a matter of time. Time, dedication and effort. Time to let Mukuro adjust and to make him understand that he was well received, that he was free and that nothing as gruesome and horrible as the things that had happened to him on the past would ever happen again.

To let him know that he was safe.

He sighed heavily, gaze settling on the gun he was cleaning moments ago then to look at the dark sky that slowly began to clear with the first subtle rays of morning sunshine.

He rubbed his eyes, looking at the clock mounted on the nearest wall.

4:50 a.m.

_It's still early. I should…_

- Juudaime! - Office doors swung open, his Storm Guardian entered rapidly, face flushed with a mixture of agitation and embarrassment.

- Wh… What's going on, Gokudera?- Tsuna sputtered, rising quickly.

As an answer, the Guardian rushed toward the TV propped against one of the farthest walls and clicked on it, searching frantically along the various channels.

- There, look Juudaime!- he finally exclaimed, pointing a trembling finger at the news that was being broadcasted on the flat screen.

Stunned, Tsuna got closer. In a fraction of a second, shock replaced his initial confusion. Images of Bertesco's headquarters wrapped in flames flickering in his vision.

Hundreds of dead bodies scattered along the pavement… not enough white sheets to cover the bloodied remnants of charred human flesh and blackened bones…

Pools of blood… Horror struck visages…

Women bodies… little bodies whose charred skin made them unrecognizable.

- Everything was burned down. There isn't a single person alive. Ninety-eight dead, including women and children. - Gokudera cleared his throat, slightly overwhelmed by the news. – Marco Bertesco died from a fall. According to what I heard, he may have died in an attempt to escape the fire… Slipped maybe…–

- …Or he was so desperate that he wasn't able to calculate his landing,- Tsuna whispered, seeing the images with an ashen face. - What caused the fire? - he asked, turning off the television.

- No word yet. Something big and powerful, by the magnitude of the flames, - Gokudera said, staring at his leader.

Tsuna sighed heavily, one of his hands wandering over his downcast facade.

- ... It is amazing that something like this happened. Looks like someone beat us to it, don't you think, Gokudera? - Tsuna whispered, sarcastically. Oh, how he hated to see things like that happening. But at the same time, a little part of him, the selfish part of him, was glad.

Maybe he sounded cruel or pathetic or a coward but Sawada Tsunayoshi was a little glad. Because now a heavy weight and concern was removed from his shoulders. Now he could breathe a little easier, knowing he wouldn't have to risk the lives of his dear men and Guardians for people who didn't deserve it.

But still, the kind and naïve part of him couldn't help but also feel sadness and horror.

It was ok to kill Marco Bertesco and his men because they deserved their punishment. But to kill innocent women and children, people who weren't responsible for anything committed by either Bertesco or his miscreants…

Innocent children had suffered a horrible death. Innocent women had succumbed to the flames. Oh, the suffering and terror they must have felt…

It broke his heart.

Tsuna shook his head with sadness. - Gokudera. Please go to the remains of Bertesco Headquarters and gather more information about what happened and who may have caused this. And please send a message to the other Guardians announcing a change of plans. An emergency meeting is due today, at 13:00 hours.-

Gokudera nodded solemnly and exited the room, not before giving his leader one last concerned look.

Meanwhile, Tsuna stopped by his windowsill, peering at the clearing sky. A small sigh escaped pale lips, eyes glinting with uncertainty.

- Why do I feel ... that this is the beginning of something horrible? - he muttered to himself, opening the window and letting the cool breeze caress his skin.

_My soul shakes and trembles._

_Why do I have this horrible, foreboding feeling?_

~0000~

His footsteps echoed ominously in the narrow corridor. Moisture had corroded the metal walls. Rooted lamps threw flickering lights. Darkness was slowly spreading, dimming the already poor illumination. A stale smell floated like a weightless cloak.

And countless buds of decaying lotus flowers were scattered on the humid floor.

Undaunted, he continued on his way, padding over the buds, crushing some of them. His mind pushed him towards the only door waiting at the end of the filthy hall.

Crushed petals. An accursed kind of feeling arising, prowling from every corner, from every crushed flower. Something akin to sadness and despair.

The silence was abruptly broken. A gust of ice cold breeze buffeted his skin. Waves upon waves of agonized screeches erupted from the other side of that distant door. Echoes banging like physical bodies along the walls, blaring at his ears, shattering his sanity.

He didn't know when he started to run. He didn't remember opening the filthy door.

The only thing he grew aware of was the feeling of his soul freezing. The clutches of disgust clawed at his sides.

Red. It was everything his eyes could capture at first. Bright blood pouring from a small dying body, accumulating on a metal table and then falling in shiny currents. Red and brilliant, forming pools on the dirtied floor.

An operating room, an illegal laboratory or a testing center. It was impossible to know.

The metal table, on which rested the mysterious and convulsive body was surrounded by men whose once white cloaks were now butchered with crimson. Men whose humanity was hidden behind blank masks and in whose hands shone metal scalpels that sank without pity in the moving flesh of the tortured being.

Screams. Screams. Blood burst, splashing everywhere; bathing broken flesh. Hands all over that little body. Hands touching and grasping and hurting.

He wanted to move. Move and kill those men. Move and bite to death those nameless bastards and ease that little and insignificant being of the pain he was feeling.

But he couldn't. He was restrained, unable to move. Unable to scream, to threat, to yell.

He was desperate.

_That voice. I know that voice. I have heard it somewhere…_

The little creature screamed again, a thin arm rising among blood to instantly be beaten down harshly by the gloved hand of one of the men.

Another scalpel shone in the dim light as it descended on the body. A mighty scream of pure horror and pain sprouted from the little being's lips.

_And he couldn't see his face… couldn't…_

"No! No… Stop! Please, stop!" the child screamed.

He roared with rage, fighting those invisible chains that bound him and prevented him from moving, from killing those wretched excuses of human beings.

_Why do I shake like this for a stranger? Who is he? Why…?_

Suddenly, like a sledgehammer to the temple, the precious scent of blooming lotus flowers flooded his senses. And among the pools of blood, little crimson-stained buds began to flourish.

_Little beautiful crimson flowers, covered with thin little black veins… lush, pinkish petal shining among bloodied remnants._

He stopped fighting. He stopped roaring…

… and unknowingly, his breathing stopped, along with several beats of his heart.

_No. Impossible._

One of the white clad men moved, shaking his bloody hands, exposing the small being who lay limp and covered in blood on that cold metal surface.

Bluish strands of silken hair wetted crimson.

His soul stirred with a deep and almost animal fury, his mind shattering, his usually cold and calm demeanor now in shreds as a guttural roar escaped his lips. But nobody listened. The men clad in white continued their duty, looking for new scalpels, for strings and gauze.

The body on the metal surface did not scream, did not beg. He was just there, breathing slowly… brokenly.

_Lips moving softly._

That little face turned towards him. A face too young, too round and childish…

… but undoubtedly _his._

Blue strands fell over the disfigured red eye; rows of blood still gushing from the abused and scarred tissue around the sensitive skin. The other eye, a dim bluish one, flashed with something akin to exhaustion. And even when those eyes never looked directly at him, focused on something far, far away… Hibari couldn't help feeling a cold sense of dread.

For those eyes who shone with the horror of a thousand suffering souls and that little, demented smile that slowly curved on those thin, boyish lips signaled the ending of a human being, and the birth of a monster.

_"Someday… Someday ... I will have my revenge."_

_"Someday… Someday ... I will have my revenge."_

Rokudo Mukuro chanted that same broken sentence even when the men around him began to pummel and hit him. Even when the butchery began once again. Even when blood continued to fall, nurturing the dying flowers that shone like bloody rose quartz

_"Someday… Someday ... I will have my revenge."_

In the darkness of his room, bright grey eyes snapped open. On the little wooden table next to him, an alarm clock blared. Near it, a cell phone rang with shrill intensity, looking for attention.

And those unwavering grey orbs slowly became slits, powered by a visceral and maddened anger.

_An almost painful kind of hatred._

The sounds on the darkened room were muffled by the thunderous sound of powerful purple flames gushing uncontrollably from his Cloud Ring. Flames were directed at the table that flew into pieces against the nearest window.

The sound of glass, wood and metal shattering and falling spectacularly on the garden outside destroyed the calmness of the warm, sunny day.

~0000~

- I can't even… Who the hell…?- A frustrated scream tore from Gokudera's lips; followed by a deep inhalation of a trembling cigarette.

Sitting behind his desk, Sawada Tsunayoshi massaged his temples, gaze wandering slowly and concisely on each portrait in black and white that had been saved from the only security camera that had been functional enough for its contents to be extracted.

The few photographs were edged with static, showing a woman with black hair, whose blurry face was unrecognizable.

- A woman. That carnage was caused by a single woman…- Gokudera whispered, taking one of the pictures and gazing at it with critical eye.- I can't even began to explain how wrong this is…–

- Gokudera. Please stop smoking. It's bad for your health and it's giving me a headache, - Tsuna whispered in a warning tone.

Almost instantly, Gokudera crushed the cigarette in the nearest ashtray, muttering an embarrassed apology.

- The others haven't contacted yet?-

- I think Yamamoto is with Lambo, and they are on their way h…-

Tsuna's office door swung open abruptly, causing a slight wince to surface on Gokudera's ashen face. The hasty entrance of an out of breath Takeshi Yamamoto, accompanied by a concerned Sasagawa Ryohei and a nervous Lambo, brought a tired smile to Tsuna's worried clad face.

- Sorry for the delay. We arrived as soon as we heard, - Yamamoto said, breathing deeply to get some air.

- We'd heard it all on the radio. It is macabre! What are we going to do about this, Tenth?- Ryohei asked, fists shaking in suppressed adrenaline.

Tsuna shook his head, extending the photographs towards Yamamoto.

- Gokudera wasn't able to find anything besides these photos. We are going to send them to some of the most reliable newspapers and stations in order for them to publish them. Hopefully, with some stipend, we could at least catch the culprit and pray she could at least tell us why she did it.-

- A woman! - Ryohei exclaimed, looking in amazement at the stylized silhouette in the pictures.

- It raises some suspicion, Juudaime. What if this woman worked with an enemy _famiglia_ who, more than wanting to kill the Bertescos, wanted to give us a warning of some sort?- Gokudera hypothesized, tone serious.

Tsuna bit his lip, looking at his Storm Guardian with something akin to understanding.

- Think about it, Juudaime. We have many enemies. It was almost public knowledge that sooner or later we would lead revenge upon Bertesco for the assassination of the Mendeliers. What if some other family went ahead of us, just to let us know we aren't the only ones with enough power to kill an entire _famiglia_? We are carrying serious conflicts with some powerful families for the control of the country and because of some of our spec ops missions. We have received threats and in some missions we have had complications arising from ambushes. It wouldn't be too brash to think that someone might want to intimidate us…-

- I think Gokudera's reasoning is quite believable, Tsuna. There have been some nasty rumors going around, of families that are not happy with the power you have harvested over these years. We haven't ended the war against some major families, and the conflict is dire and tense enough… - Yamamoto piped in, sitting on a chair near.

Tsuna's gaze wandered once again to the photograph he was clutching. An inexplicable sense of recognition sparked within him even when he was 100% sure he had never seen a woman like this one.

It was a keen sense of familiarity that troubled him so much.

- Until we're sure about the motives behind this woman's actions, we can't begin to hypothesize. We need to find her first.-

- What do we do, Juudaime? - Gokudera asked instantly, ready for action.

Tsuna watched them intently and then shook his head.

- Yamamoto-san, Lambo-san. Could you do me a favor and go look for Mukuro? Also please, try to contact Hibari-san once more. I need both of them here in order to assign them work to do. Gokudera, I need you to try to clear and sharpen these photos as much as possible and then send a copy to every reliable station and newspaper, attached with a "wanted" claim and a reward for information. I will leave details and the amount of the reward to your best judgment. Also, would you please try and contact Dino-san? Send him some photographs and explain our current situation. I will need his resources to find anything related to this woman. Tell him I need to reunite with him, the sooner the better. I need to find this woman quickly, before havoc ensues with other families.-

Tsuna gave the photographs to his Storm Guardian and then bid everyone a safe riddance. Everyone nodded and left the office.

Alone, Tsuna took the only photo he conserved, one of the blurriest. In it, the silhouette of the woman was almost undistinguished, but her face, even obscured by the static, showed some slight, thin contours. Amber eyes dimmed; a contemplative expression on his scrunched face.

_Why? Why do I have the feeling of knowing you, woman?_

~0000~

_Hot. Hotter… More… more…_

Steam floated around the small bathroom, clouding the mirrors and glass panels.

Under boiling water and clouded by steam, a motionless figure stood; face uplifted, eyes closed, and hot water prickling sensitive, reddish skin. Skin so delicate. So thin. Face so tired and ashen, but with a small smile playing. A little, euphoric smile. Laced with devilish satisfaction. White skin wrinkling and reddening for the amount of time beneath the constant steam.

Specks of black ashes lay on the surface of the tiled floor. Droplets of blood marred the white linoleum of the bathroom. A beautiful red dress hung from the ring perched in the nearest wall; covered with the same black ashes, with the same droplets of blood along its edges.

The water was cooler now. Mismatched eyes opened, receiving the constant droplets, the transparent liquid clouding his vision.

Later, he began to meticulously clean every piece of evidence left, finally incinerating the long dress in wisps of black flames. He peered at the fogged mirror of the bathroom, eyes crinkling with tiredness while slowly drying his hair.

Oh, how he wanted to lie on his soft bed and sleep until tomorrow.

But it wasn't time. Maybe later when everything settled and he was sure his plans drifted accordingly. Even then, he felt elated enough to sustain himself. He liked the idea of going out to see how the Vongola were dealing with the news pertaining Bertesco. To look at their faces and laugh silently at their confusion and helplessness.

_Running… running around in circles. Searching for nonexistent enemies. Going crazy with despair while I observe. Laughing, full of hidden merriment._

_I want to see him. See him running and crying out in anger. I want to see his eyes flashing with murderous intent, unaware of my intentions._

But at the same time he felt the need to be alone. At least for some hours. To replenish some energy, to think and remember. To make more plans.

He needed to continue, but he was so tired.

Looking at his hands, he smiled wistfully.

Seeing only bright trails of bloody rivers marking his skin with permanent intensity. Flowing, falling, never-ending.

_So much blood poured. So many people killed by these hands of mine. So many… so much…_

As he went out of the bathroom, his vision rested on the clear sky outside his open window as his lungs filled with fresh air.

He felt so… alive.

The soft patter of his door roused him from his contemplations. Without even turning around, he knew who it was. He smiled gently, eyes wandering around the room lethargically.

- Come in, dear Chrome, – he finally said, focusing on the slender figure of the young woman who made her entrance into the room carrying a breakfast tray, which was placed on the nearest table.

- Good morning, Mukuro-sama. - She looked radiant and healthy.

Beautiful and innocent, wearing a big smile just for him.

_So naïve… It is almost sad._

- You shouldn't have bothered, Chrome, – he muttered, smiling back, albeit a little forcefully.

Chrome shook her head, and then watched him carefully.

- Are you all right, Mukuro-sama? – she suddenly asked, concerned eye shining softly.

Oh, Mukuro sometimes needed to remind himself how much Chrome knew him. She was one of the few people capable of seeing behind his illusions.

And it was somewhat comforting, yet so horribly dangerous.

- There are so many feelings where before none existed, Chrome. I need time to adjust,- he simply commented.

Chrome nodded.

_So understanding. Weak and caring. So innocent and childish._

- You need to take care, Mukuro-sama. You're so thin and the Mist Ring requires a lot of energy,- she reprimanded him sweetly, pointing a dainty finger towards the full tray of food.- It isn't healthy to live based on only one meal a day.

- Who would have thought you would end up ordering me around, Chrome? When did you become such a demanding little woman? - Mukuro whispered, chuckling slightly.

- Since I was given the difficult task of dealing with all the stubborn Guardians and a stubborn leader, - Chrome said, grinning. - Now eat. I'll be out for a few hours with Kyoko-chan and Haru-chan. Do you need something, Mukuro-sama?

- What happened with Chikusa and Ken? - Mukuro whispered, genuinely intrigued.

- Today I will go to visit them, to bring food and other supplies. Sawada-san has put them in a comfortable place to live and now they are part of the Vongola's manpower. Although it is of public knowledge that they do it more because you are here than to genuinely help Boss with his cause.-

Mukuro nodded, a vaguely amused expression marring his face.

- They're good kids. All of you. Go then. And beware, the streets are infested with all kinds of vermin.-

Chrome smiled in response, and then quickly left the room, muttering a sweet, "Later, Mukuro-sama," to him.

He watched her depart with something akin to a smile.

_So sweet and innocent, my dearest girl._

_If only you knew what the man you respect so much is doing._

_If only you knew…_

~00~

Throughout that morning, Mukuro did his best to go unnoticed in the huge Vongola mansion. The cell phone Tsunayoshi had given him was nested in the deepest confines of his room, ringing incessantly while his owner calmly trotted along quiet hallways, undeterred by the fact there were people looking desperately for him.

He really didn't want to spend mindless hours discussing and planning strategies against invisible enemies. He felt that, if he was subjected to such a scenario, he would end up cackling over in laughter just because of the sheer stupidity and irony of it.

He was satisfied with the snippets of conversations and images he was able to obtain from televisions. It was enough for him to see those beautifully charred and mangled bodies, and those enormous and wholesome flames engulfing everything in a deep and horrifying hell.

It was enough to make him smile with pride.

_Humans are so weak. So easy to destroy. Just a snap, just a little fire… a little pain and then they are gone. Dead, useless. Like worms. Like ants._

Like a naughty boy he had played, casting illusions along corridors of the Bertesco mansion. Laughing at the expense of a woman screaming when her wavy hair suddenly had enveloped in bright flames; of men and women alike crashing down the stairs or hitting themselves against walls, all of them in an induced haze made by his trickery.

_It was like playing with little fragile dolls. Dolls capable of screaming, thrashing and bleeding._

"_When was the last time I had so much fun?"_

As he swerved along the large and empty Vongola hallway with a soft and placid gleam in his eyes, a door from the end of the corridor suddenly opened. The handsomely collected figure of Kyoya Hibari emerged from it, looking directly at him with metallic orbs glinting ominously while he walked with long and sure steps towards him.

Upon seeing him, something inside his chest stirred with ecstasy.

He waited with collected calmness, looking intently at the approaching man. His mismatched eyes narrowed slightly, a frown slowly forming. Because there was something… something strange in those grey eyes that watched him with hawk-like intensity.

Something that made his skin crawl with a sudden anxiety.

- Have you come here again to take me to another tedious meeting, Hibari Kyoya?- Mukuro whispered, expression turning slightly guarded.

_I perceive something strange._

_What if he knows something? What if…_

Not a single reply. Even before Mukuro could even open his lips to repeat the question, Hibari had planted himself in front of him to then grab him securely by the arm.

- At last I've found you, slippery illusionist, – he whispered, harshly. Without saying more, he began to drag him towards the same door he came from.

- What do you think you are doing, Hibari Kyoya? - Mukuro said, batting off the offensive grip and glaring at the confident and un-amused expression of the Cloud Guardian.

- Come over here before I lose my patience and bit you to death, - Hibari said, voice still controlled, eyes still blaring.

- It's that a threat or an invitation? - Mukuro whispered with a half smile.

- You will never find out if you keep standing there looking like an idiot. - That being said, Hibari entered the room.

Cocking an eyebrow and looking slightly put off, Mukuro pushed aside the feeling of unease and went after Hibari. Once he stepped inside, everything was a blur. A door slammed close, sounds of metal slicing air and colliding with his rapidly summoned trident in a noisy clink of armor.

The jolt of dizziness caused by the sudden use of his recovering energy rendered Mukuro's usual agility down a notch. In a matter of seconds, his back painfully collided with the wooden panels of the little, desolate office; Hibari trapping him with his tonfas embedded firmly along his neck, wisps of minty breath fanning his face.

- Oya, I didn't think you were so anxious to see me, Hibari Kyoya, – Mukuro said, smiling devilishly. - But you need to be more careful, I don't like to be manhandled around. –

A scoff sprouted from the Cloud Guardian's lips.

- Is it true? - Hibari cut off suddenly, a slight sense of urgency honeying that single question.

Mukuro's carefree visage melted slightly, a spark of confusion showing on mismatched orbs. As a response Hibari growled, eyes darkening.

- I think we're a little out of tune here, Hibari Kyoya, - Mukuro sing-songed, smiling with derision. - To what exactly are you referring?

- You know very well what I'm talking about, Rokudo Mukuro, - Hibari hissed, pressing his tonfas a little tighter against the illusionist's neck.

For the first time in a while, Mukuro had no answer. The confusion became more visible in his expression, eyebrows arching slightly.

_What does he want? I don't even…_

- Then I might have lost my mind, because I haven't the slightest idea of what you are referring to. - A curious little spark lit Mukuro's eyes, mixing with that genuine puzzlement.

But Hibari Kyoya didn't flinch or deterred. His expression continued to be of quiet coolness even when the first signs of irritation began to show.

- What was that place: Some kind of laboratory? A hospital ward? - he pressed, voice almost growled.

_What is he talking about?_

- You seemed to be young… how old? Nine? Ten?-

- I think there's something wrong with you, Hibari Kyoya. I don't have time to play with you and your cryptic little…-

- Someday… Someday ... I will have my revenge. - Hibari simply said; his voice cold.

And then, it clicked.

A jolt, a shocked and pained spark. So slight and sudden it was almost impossible to believe it was there. And with it, a miniature twitch on the corner of Mukuro's crimson eye. A sudden freeze of his smile, a tremor of his pale fingers.

Actions that would go unseen by the common, untrained eye; but ones that Hibari Kyoya caught on.

A little smile rapidly formed on the sensual contours of thin lips, blue-red eyes crinkling with amusement.

And it was almost magnificent for Hibari to see how fast Rokudo was able to construct such a beautiful, deceiving mask.

- You have left me flabbergasted. Who would have thought someone like you would end up being interested in someone else's past?-

- So it's true, - Hibari muttered, unable to look away from the other man. – And here I thought it was all a trick to elicit pity from lesser herbivores.

Mukuro's smile faded, a dangerous gleam in his cursed eye. - I'm not going to deny something you could easily obtain via your infinite amount of connections. Nor am I interested to discuss something that is in the past.-

Hibari lessened his hold on the tonfas, leaving Mukuro space to breathe and move properly.

- Who told you? What did they tell you? - Mukuro questioned after a long pause, voice strangely calm.

- I didn't need anyone to tell me anything. I saw it all. - Was the Cloud Guardian simple answer.

- Impossible. – Mukuro's reply came without doubt, muttered somewhat testily.

- There was a long, corroded corridor with broken lights sending dim flashes. Floor full of grime…

… _and lotus flowers._

- There was a room with incandescent white lights, with white clad men surrounding a metal table where you lay, bleeding to death and crying, howling, pleadi…-

Hibari's tonfas rose, protecting him from the sudden, mind-blowing crash of Mukuro's trident against him. The sheer force of the impact sent him a few steps back, ears ringing.

Mukuro's façade faltered, eyes gleaming with murderous intent.

Just a second, Hibari was finally able to see a piece of shattered perfection. Just a snippet of pain and fear that was instantly covered by layers upon layers of white hot rage.

- Did you like it? – Mukuro whispered, voice filled with malice. - Did it excite you to see me in such pain? Did it cause you pleasure to see me cry and plea while people like you, _Mafiosi_, destroyed me? - A manic chuckle broke from tight smiling lips.

Hibari's eyes hardened.

- What are you going to do now, Kyoya? Are you going to tell Sawada Tsunayoshi and every other human being in the vicinity so you all could rejoice in my most gruesome experiences?

_Come. Tell me you're going to do it, Kyoya. That's the only incentive I need._

_Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me that you don't care._

_Do it, so I can stop feeling this weakening emotion that renders me unable to kill you._

_What are you waiting for? Say it! Say it!_

_So I can finally kill you without feeling like I'm killing a part of myself._

- You're so stupid, Rokudo Mukuro.-

Just that. That and the sudden pressure of warm lips roughly colliding against Mukuro's slightly parted ones. That and hands sinking deeply in long blue tresses, caressing almost desperately.

Mukuro gasped, trident falling with a noisy clattering, hands subconsciously resting, pushing against Hibari's torso. Then pulling almost savagely, chests colliding with painful force.

It was almost subconscious; the way Mukuro let Hibari kiss him; the way their tongues collided, teeth grazing flesh sloppily, savagely, biting.

Their bodies thumped against a nearby desk. Mukuro's body bended awkwardly against the wooden corner, arms latching around Hibari's neck and pulling him down.

_What am I doing? This isn't…_

Hibari's hands travelled down, gripping Mukuro's slender hips to then ease him up abruptly onto the desk's surface. Papers and pens were hastily thrown out while his hungry mouth travelled towards Mukuro´s uncovered neck, biting and sucking with ferocity, eliciting strangled intakes of breath from the illusionist´s swelled lips.

Hibari's mouth abandoned the abused expanse of milky skin to capture once again the illusionist's waiting lips; feeling that hot tongue dancing around his own; breaths mingling.

He stopped.

Hibari's tongue retracted. His hands slipped into Mukuro´s shirt and gripped his jutted hips with enough force to leave marks on the delicate skin. Grey eyes lidded with animalistic lust glided over clouded, mismatched eyes.

In that haze induced silence, one of Hibari's hands went towards Mukuro's face. His fingers pooled slightly against bluish tresses, passing towards a porcelain cheek and then, with a delicacy rare in such a brash man as himself, grazing his fingers against a half-lidded eye.

The same eye that shone like a beautiful ruby.

More by reflex than by fear, Mukuro cringed. His hand shot up to grab Hibari's and to peel it away. But Hibari was faster than him, and in a span of a breath he had the offensive arm grasped by his remaining hand while his other fingers continued their light, ephemeral touch.

He brushed his fingers along the scar-marred eyelid, along the long and soft lashes, going down along an unblemished cheek. He then grabbed, albeit a little forcefully, Mukuro's chin, easing him up and locking stares with those impressive, defiant eyes.

- I didn't understand at first… - Hibari said, voice unusually soft. - But now I do.-

- And what, pray tell, did you come to understand? - Mukuro whispered back, his tone defiant, scathing.

Hibari didn't smile. But there was a glint in his eyes, delving a deep satisfaction.

- The reason why you live hiding behind that perfect mask of yours.-

There wasn't a single bit of condescendence, nor rage or mockery in Hibari's tone. His voice was understanding and, if explored further, maybe a bit _caring_.

- You survived something that no other person could. And because you're an arrogant, brash and persistent little fuck, you continued on living. Because you can't afford losing against lesser beings, because you crave for power and like to dominate, to consume and destroy, reduce, obliterate… Just like me. - Hibari smiled predatorily; his haughty demeanor contrasting with the fire-powered gleam on his eyes.

- And I like it. I like this thing, this aggression, and these emotions that you portray, this anger and despair and passion. Because it makes me feel like I'm fighting someone worthy, not some herbivore or some mindless machine. And even when I'm conscious of the risks…- Hibari separated a little. - … knowing it's you I'm going to fight makes every challenge worth dying for.-

A foreign feeling swept through Mukuro's cracked soul.

- I could end up killing you, Hibari Kyoya. I could end up slipping in the middle of the night to carve your flesh off of your body while you slept. Why are you praising someone who could end up betraying you? Who could end up betraying those you team up with? -

_What would you do if I tell you what have I done until now?_

- No one needs to know what transpires between you and me. And just so you know, I will be the one to chase you and kill you if you try to betray us. - Hibari replied easily, smugly.

- Why, pray tell, do you think everything's going to be as simple as that, Hibari Kyoya?-

- That's easy. - Hibari roughly grabbed Mukuro's hair, yanking it softly. His face burrowed in that soft neck, nose grazing, inhaling the soft scent of lotuses coming from Mukuro's skin. - It would be like that because you're mine. Mine to chase, to stop, to kill…

… _or to save._

A soft chuckle erupted from Mukuro, his remaining hand gliding towards Hibari's neck, grabbing flesh, nails digging painfully.

- Such nonsensical and arrogant words, Hibari Kyoya.-

_Let's see if you're capable of stopping me when time comes_

Hibari let go of the soft strands and Mukuro unlatched himself from the Cloud's body, both slowly separating.

- Do you think I'm an easy target? That you would be able to…- Mukuro stopped talking, eyes clouding slightly and face paling.

Hibari frowned, one of his hands unconsciously twitching to grab the still figure.

- Rokudo. What's…?-

In a sudden onslaught, Mukuro lurched forward, his breath coming in shallow pants as blood spilled out in a grotesquely crimson flow from his pale, quivering lips.

Hibari was by his side, his arms encasing the doubled over figure of Mukuro's trembling form.

- What's happening to you, Rokudo? What…?-

- C… Chrome. - Was Mukuro's sole answer, eyes wide with a mixture of pain and rage. In a blink, he disappeared, leaving behind a soft curtain of mist.

In that same instant, two female shrieking calls of help came from afar, their echoes faint.

Hibari went out, speeding down the corridor with his tonfas ready and his ring sprouting blackish flames. When he was able to locate the source of the screams, he halted, eyes narrowing at the vision he was assaulted with.

There were two women, Sasagawa's sister, Kyoko Sasagawa and Miura Haru, trembling from the effort of supporting and half carrying the bloodied body of another woman.

_No. Not any woman… she was…_

The doors from Sawada Tsunayoshi's office opened, and he abruptly stopped, amber eyes wide while other Guardians ran towards the site of commotion.

- Chrome-chan!- Tsuna screamed, running towards the females, desperation and horror filling every crevice of his usually happy, composed face.

He wasn't able to go near though, thanks to the sudden whiplash of dark, murderous flames that sprouted from Rokudo Mukuro's sudden apparition. Whips of dark, fiery flames erupted from his tensed trident, eyes filled with maniacal hatred.

- Don't you even dare, Sawada Tsunayoshi, - he darkly whispered, spinning around and roughly shaking off both screaming women to gather the almost lifeless body of Chrome. Her thin body trembled with effort, the deep gash that crossed her abdomen spilling out blood in cascades.

- M… Mukuro-sama, - she slowly said, her usually covered eye now naked, revealing the deep gash crossing her eye-less socket.

Near him, Kyoko and Haru sobbed, running towards Ryohei and Tsuna respectively. Their faces and arms were covered with cuts and bruises, their large eyes bloodshot with stress and their fancy and colorful summer dresses marred with Chrome's blood.

- Tsuna-san! Tsuna-san! - Haru yelled, rushing towards him in a sobbing mess, while Kyoko remained in place, crying bitterly and talking so fast her words jumbled together.

- Oh, God. Oh, God. She's going to die. She's going to…-

- Stop it, Kyoko! - Tsuna yelled, desperate. - Stop crying and tell me what the hell happened!?-

Hibari descended, going directly towards Mukuro's figure who was crouching almost protectively over a coughing and gasping Chrome. His bloodied hands worked over the deep gash, strands of purely condensed, purplish mist trying to mend the wound. Black, fiery wisps of corroded Mist flames enveloped both illusionists, leaving dark, charred wood every time they connected with the floor.

- We were ... we were buying clothes. We started to walk down a street, looking for a place to eat. And ... and suddenly everything went dark. We started yelling and… and… someone took us into a dark alley. We didn't see anything. They… they beat us while yelling that it was revenge for… for killing someone named Bertesco. There were a lot of men… and one of them tried to disfigure us with a knife and then… then Chrome-chan defended us. She used her illusions and trapped them so we could escape but one… one of them was able to grab her and… he took his knife and… and…- Kyoko wailed, desperately.- We couldn't do anything… we couldn't even… she was bleeding so much and they… they ran away… so much blood, so much…

After saying this, she burst into a fresh wave of sobs.

Tsuna paled, his face slowly transforming into the façade of not the usual gentle and carefree Tsuna, but the face proper of a _Mafiosi_ out for revenge.

Carefully, he slid out of Haru's trembling and iron-clad grasp to move resolutely towards Mukuro, his eyes connecting once with Hibari's steely gaze.

Undaunted by everything transpiring around him, Mukuro continued to create illusions of muscle, tissue and skin on the savagely destroyed flesh, flashing tight smiles towards Chrome, who little by little began to lose color and awareness.

- Stay with me, you stupid child, - he whispered menacingly, undaunted by the prickling sensation of something warm descending from his cursed eye.

- Y… You're bleeding, Mukuro-sama, - Chrome murmured, her brows furrowed.

- That's some nonsensical observation you have made, Chrome. Now stay with me and don't even dare close your eyes.-

He had created part of her intestines again, and some veins and arteries to suffice for the ones broken, but he was aware they wouldn´t suffice. It wasn´t like the organs he had created and given to her. It wasn´t and he just needed a little more… a little more to stabilize her.

_Stupid Nagi. Stupid Chrome. Why you didn't run? What have I told you?_

_Stupid, stupid! You shouldn't have saved those worthless pieces of flesh. Why…_

_-_I'm disappointed, Chrome. Why did you insist in acting contrary to the teachings I have educated you with? - Mukuro asked, hands trembling because of exhaustion, eyes harsh and unforgiving.

But Chrome, sweet and beautiful Chrome, just smiled. Smiled and held one of his hands with her bloody fingers.

- I'm just… trying to do the right thing, Mukuro-sama.-

Just that. That was enough for Mukuro to lose concentration, to drop his deadly defenses, to halt his ministrations. It was also enough for both Tsuna and Hibari to charge towards him, Hibari tackling Mukuro and Tsuna taking hold of Chrome's body, encasing her between his arms and lifting her, the other Guardians soon around him.

A guttural and monstrous howl, desperate and almost animal in its sheer intensity, broke from Mukuro's lips. His body lurched forward only to then be encased by Hibari's strong, undeterred grip. The Cloud Guardian's fiery flames bounded Mukuro's wrists, keeping him restrained and enveloped in the tight grip of his arms.

- Mukuro, stop this. We are family! We're going to get Chrome-chan better! We need to take her to the emergency room!- Tsuna shouted, while Gokudera began yelling in his cell phone for one of the doctors in the basement to come with a team for emergency treatment as Yamamoto and Ryohei consoled Kyoko and Haru's trembling, paled forms.

- Stop this, Rokudo. She's going to receive treatment… you have done enough,- Hibari whispered in Mukuro's ear, voice slightly cracked due to the effort.

A single, blue eye looked sideways. Hate, so much hate brimming from it.

- Let me go, Hibari Kyoya.-

- No.-

- I'm going to hurt you. Slowly… painfully, - Mukuro said, thrashing against his bindings, too exhausted to use his eye which was bleeding profusely.

The medical team came in a record time, Tsuna running towards them and easing Chrome gently, almost lovingly, onto the stretcher prepared for her. There was a swarm of nurses and a doctor putting a mask on her, injecting her and wheeling her away towards the Medical Facilities of the Vongola, located in the basement.

- I will be waiting when you deem yourself composed enough to be worthy,- Hibari countered, a slight wince showing briefly at a well put jab from Mukuro's elbow.

Tsuna went back to them, amber eyes looking worriedly towards both Guardians.

- Mukuro-san. Please… calm down. Please, I'm trying to help Chrome, to help you. Believe me when I tell you I'm… so enraged with what has happened. Please… stop and let's talk. Let's talk and look for a way to know who were those bastards who dared to lay a hand on someone as precious as Chrome is for m… for us.-

Tsuna's face showed such a deep amount of fear and anger, eyes brimming with unshed tears, so bright with anguish and despair that Mukuro couldn't, even when he tried to, retaliate anymore.

He was so exhausted. His energies depleted, feeling like he would end up crumbling at any time.

Too much. Too much blood spilt in a single day. And even when part of it was graciously and happily welcomed, the other part… Chrome's part…

He tried. Mukuro really tried to get rid of the feeling of seeing his Chrome in such a way. He tried to think of her as a mere tool, a mere object he finally would be able to get rid of.

He tried to see her as something disposable, worthless… not enough for him to waste his precious energy.

But it was impossible. It was impossible for him to see that little girl he once saved, and continued on saving, as a mere tool for his game. It was impossible for him to remain cold from those loving, worshipping smiles she constantly gave him, those warm hugs, gentle words and caring actions.

Because that stupid, little girl was the only thing resembling a family he had.

Like a sister. Or maybe like a daughter, if he wanted to be more absurd.

"_Stupid Mukuro. Why do you, who didn't blink an eye when killing dozens of people, shy away when confronted with the possibility of losing a mere mortal?"_

Why, he wondered.

_Maybe… it's because she's different. Like Ken, Chikusa, M.M…_

_Or maybe because she's someone special… like Kyoya Hibari. Someone I couldn't think of losing. _

- Are you going to behave? Or do I need to break your bones for you to be calm?- Hibari asked, his serious tone portraying no doubt about the possibilities of the second option being taken into action.

Mukuro calmed down, noting how Tsuna's expression wavered in a rush of relief, while the other Guardians sighed and lowered their defenses. He calmed down, shrugged and then, without further notion, smiled a thin, fake and horrible smile that marred his beautiful face.

- If you let Chrome die, Sawada Tsunayoshi, I'm going to hunt you down and make you suffer through the Six Paths of Hell.-

Even though Tsuna visibly shuddered at the thought, he still nodded and smiled reassuringly.

- I will do everything to ensure her safety. And if something happens to her, even the slightest thing… I will let you do to me whatever punishment you see fit.-

- Juudaime! - Gokudera yelled, but Tsuna lifted his arm, signaling him to stop.

- Then it is a deal, Sawada Tsunayoshi, - Mukuro said, while Hibari slowly released him.

- It is a deal, - Tsuna confirmed, serious. - Believe me when I say you that I'm going to look for the people responsible and I will make them pay.-

- That's if we don't locate them first, - Hibari suddenly said, completely releasing Mukuro, who shot him a slightly puzzled expression. - After all, I myself admit that Dokuro, while still a herbivore, was a worthy and resilient one. And a part of the Vongola. In order to maintain our status as the most powerful _famiglia_, we need to eradicate threats and impart deadly sentences towards those who had dared to attack us in such a vile way.

Hibari then looked at Rokudo's face, expression serious and eyes blazing.

- We, Rokudo Mukuro, are going to find those insignificant roaches and we are going to crush them. –

- Hieee, Hibari-san! Don't…- Tsuna screeched, flabbergast at the sudden turn of events.

- Deal, - Mukuro said, eyes ablaze.

Hibari smirked, fiery platinum orbs never leaving those magnificent eyes, whose depths shone with promises of darkness, pain and hell.

Mukuro smiled as well, wiping off the bloody remnants of his pulsing cursed eye, the contrast giving his face a monstrous appearance.

And even when the dark, occluded and insane corners of his twisted mind screamed in rage at his acceptance of the deal, an even darker, lonelier corner, that who encased the dying remnants of his child-like, innocent self lighted; with that same emotion he felt minutes ago.

That emotion whose words would end up being both his redemption and his death.


End file.
